The Final Frontier
by Neuronerd
Summary: The last installment to Out of Time and Secrets. Dr. Collins faces life in Starfleet and the trials and tribulations that come with responsibility to the crew. M because who knows what will happen.... AU. Filed under McCoy, but the gang is all here.
1. Chapter 1 Bad News

**A/N: Here it is: The final installment to Out of Time and Secrets. Every great franchise comes in 3's- Lord of the Rings, Mad Max, The Matrix, Indiana Jones (if you don't count the last abysmal attempt). Star Wars was so good, they did 2 trilogies! **

**The crew has been called back to duty from a 48 hour shore leave for your pleasure and hopefully this one may address some anxieties you all had during Secrets. If not, I make no apologies for not being a romance writer. However, I still like to hear from you and share your pain!**

**This is the last time. I swear. I really mean it. **

**Chapter 1- Bad News**

Time does heal all wounds and for the members of the away team that had faced a life of servitude to the Queen and her Amazons, the rate of progress could be measured by the growth of hair. Jim's dirty blonde locks had almost been restored to their full luster, although it was still a bit shorter than he liked it. McCoy decided to keep his somewhat short and messy, but he swore it was a matter of convenience. Everyone else on the ship thought it was because I once told him that the look suited him very well. Sulu kept his hair shaved for awhile, but in the end gave up and was letting it grow out again. But then again, vanity was never really his issue and he took the whole experience as an opportunity to try on different looks as one would clothes.

I had talked to Sulu a few times after his initial checkup, but it never really amounted to anything. It was most definitely enlightening, however, as he shared his family history and we would discuss a wide variety of topics from the role of the Samurai in feudal Japan to the impact of trade with the Western world on Asian culture. I found him, as Spock would say, fascinating in the breadth and depth of his knowledge. Because he kept to himself, not many knew of his incredible curiosity about history, physics, art, and any other number of things. In short, he had an almost insatiable appetite for an intimate understanding of the world around him and I found it very familiar because I had been the same in college. It seemed I had too many interests; medicine, physics, astronomy, religions, it just never ended. I saw the world as one huge interconnected mass of information and I tried to understand it as a whole from as many different approaches as I could. What else could be expected from a person from early in "The Information Revolution" as they called the time period of the late 20th and early 21rst century? It seemed he never grew tired of asking me what it was like to live back then and I gladly indulged him.

Even McCoy was starting to resemble something of his old self, which not everyone on board particularly viewed as a good thing. His mood improved markedly after he resumed his duties in sickbay- 4 days earlier than he was supposed to. But as he predicted, no one had the balls to call Security. He may not have liked it, but he was a professional and knew his limitations. He knew he wasn't yet ready to perform operations, so he postponed all non-life threatening procedures and closely supervised an intern when a scientist required his appendix removed immediately. For the most part, he did routine examinations and even some of the nurse's work mostly in an attempt to again feel useful, but it worked and the mental weather changed from thunderstorms to overcast. No one could ever hope for sunny from him, he was never anything other than partly cloudy at best.

Jim was……well, Jim. The never ending tug of will continued as I walked the fine line of pushing him to tell me more because he was at least open to the concept of therapy, and giving him space because if I went to hard too fast he would likely dig his heels in like an obstinate mule. Like it or not, he was leading the dance and if he preferred to sit this one out there really wasn't much I could do but sit with him and drink the punch he had no doubt spiked earlier until he was again ready to take another spin.

Time does heal wounds, but sometimes it can tear open new ones in odd and surprising ways. And so it was when I got a page in the afternoon in sickbay from Jim who wanted to see me on the bridge. McCoy continued going through his paperwork and barely raised an eyebrow when I acknowledged it. Something was rotten in Denmark. It wasn't like McCoy to not have some snide remark or worry that Jim was embarking on yet another half-baked scheme. Instead, he continued his task with an impassively blank expression. He must have been taking lessons from Spock, which concerned me even more. I should have never told him how I could read him….

I greeted Uhura when I entered the bridge even though I had just seen her at lunch. Jim got up from his chair and smiled, but there was just a hint of reticence in his blue eyes that sent up a red flag. Whatever it was that he wanted, I was almost sure not to like it. "Spock, you have the con." He stated pointing at the half-Vulcan. I may have been paranoid, but even Spock seemed as though he knew something about whatever was going on. His eyes looked as though he may have felt sorry for me and it was truly disturbing.

We had a seat in the conference room and he leaned forward with his elbows on the table with a heavy sigh. "Collins," he started slowly, "I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but we kind of have a problem." I couldn't begin to imagine what I had done to cause any trouble. He sat back in his chair and continued. "It is kind of my fault that this happened, and a small bit yours….hell it really wasn't anyone's fault, it is just one of those things." He said waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, Starfleet read my report on the whole Amazon thing and they contacted me this morning because they wanted to give you a commendation for bravery, but lo and behold if you are the ship's counselor who is not a commissioned officer or has a license to practice from Starfleet Medical. I just knew this would come back to bite me in the ass."

I sat up in my chair and swallowed. "So, are you asking me to resign?" I asked tentatively.

"No, I have to ask you to do something much worse." He replied quietly biting his lip. "I am asking you to join Starfleet, get certified, and become a commissioned officer."

I thought he was joking, so I scoffed. "I am too old for that, Jim. Christ, I would be pushing 40 when I got out!"

"Not really." He answered again leaning forward. "I pulled some strings along with Bones and with a glowing recommendation from Spock as a sponsor and former instructor, we can get you through in about 18 weeks. Bones called in some favors at Medical so you can take refresher courses and the exam via subspace link to get you license in about 12 weeks."

"And the other six?" I asked dreading the answer I just knew he would give.

"Will be spent at the Academy in San Francisco in officer's training." He admitted drumming his fingers on the table.

"Boot camp, Jim?" I whined.

"Hey, it is an accelerated program meant for people who are already enlisted, but I can get you in. Hell, Bones did it when he was your age, it is possible. He will probably tell you it sucked, but it is possible." He smirked. So that was why he was so silent, he knew about this all along. "I know this is probably not what you saw yourself doing, but it is the best I can do. I won't lie to you, it will be hard. But I hope that you will consider it because I know you love your job and I think I can speak for the whole ship when I saw that we want you around too. When you get back you will be better, stronger, faster, and a full ranking member of the best crew in Starfleet!" He was being sarcastic, but at least a part of him truly believed it.

I was miserable. I never wanted to join the military. All the pointless orders and the yelling and screaming in your face just never made sense to me and I couldn't imagine doing it even if it was only for 6 weeks. However, I did want to keep my job and stay with the crew who had become my family. This was never the path I would have imagined for myself, but then again there really wasn't anything predictable about my life. "Fine." I whispered in defeat.

"Great!" Jim exclaimed beaming. "I know you can do it, Collins. I'll have Bones get you set up on the classes ASAP." Joy.

As I was leaving, Spock looked at the large grin on the Captain's face and then to me. In his own restricted style, his eyes reflected a sense of pride as he gave a very small congratulatory nod. It was then that I realized the implications of my decision. I could no longer stand on the outside and operate. Once I did this, my relationships with the members of the crew would change to reflect protocol and procedure. That made me very sad to think that they may no longer view me as a safe, neutral, harmless ally and instead see me as just part of the Starfleet machine: another layer of bureaucracy to be navigated, another person to salute, more red tape to entangle them.

When I got back to sickbay, McCoy knowingly smirked at me and gave me a mock salute. I fell into my chair feeling despondent. "Come on, now." He gently scolded with the exaggerated accent I usually found amusing. "It can't be all that bad. Hell, if I did it mostly drunk and pissed off at the ex and Jim as a roommate you can too."

I smiled faintly at his challenges. If he somehow managed to survive being in close proximity with Jim for three years given his penchant for attracting trouble like a magnet, then that was alone a great challenge and truly some feat of skill or luck. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and sighed, "I can do the academics. I might even miraculously survive the boot camp, but I just don't think I am military officer material."

McCoy got up and leaned against my desk with his arms folded and wore a deep scowl. "You are, you just don't know it yet." He said gruffly. "You went out there in that airlock with no regard for your own life to save another's. You came marching down to the surface and took down the Queen like General Patton with better strategy and fortitude than I have seen from some Admirals. I saw it in Jim when I met him on the shuttle and I see it in you. You are a natural, Collins."

"Please don't compare me to Jim." I laughed. "I have nowhere near his ability or luck."

"Maybe not, but you have something he doesn't: common sense." He reached out to grab my hand and I was stunned like a deer in the headlights. Even as the heat from his hand seeped into my skin, I was caught between basking in the comforting gesture and wondering if it somehow violated professional boundaries. "I know it will be hard for you, but if you can just grit your teeth and get through the hoops, you can come back and keep doing what you are doing. You are good at it." His eyes were soft and although he never thanked me for staying near him when he needed me to, he was silently doing so at that moment and I was humbled. He gave my hand a slight squeeze and said, "You have a lot of learning to do. I should get you started." I let his hand go, but I didn't want to.


	2. Chapter 2 Disruptions

**Chapter 2- Disruptions**

McCoy may have been prone to exaggeration at times, but he was not on this occasion. I had a list of 9 graduate level courses to complete in 12 weeks. Academics had always been somewhat easy for me, but even so the most classes I had ever taken at one time was 6 and that was near insanity. It felt like "A Clockwork Orange" where my face was glued to a computer monitor either in the office or in my quarters for most of the day every day. And when I wasn't watching lectures on the finer points of interstellar psychoses, I was buried in PADDs with notes and research articles along with the many assignments I had complete on my own. My entire life had been put on hold. I no longer had time to have lunch with Uhura and forget lessons with Sulu and Spock. I had almost forgotten what Chekov looked like it had been so long since I had seen him. I was completely consumed with my studies 18 hours a day and I was exhausted, but I slogged away because I took it as a personal challenge. I may have been old, both in terms of actual age and era, but I was determined to show them that this old dog could learn new tricks.

I sat back in my chair at my desk in sickbay and rubbed my tired eyes. They felt like they were on fire and my brain was numb. "Why don't you take a break?" McCoy asked looking at me with a small smile. "You will go blind if you keep it up."

"Is that your professional opinion, Doctor?" I sighed letting my head fall back to stare at the sterile white ceiling.

"You could." He shrugged. His smirk grew wider as he added, "Then I would have to fix your retinas and that would include me poking at your eyes and many, many drops."

I covered my face in horror and cried, "Stop! I can't even think about something that awful. You have a mean streak wider than the Mississippi."

He gave a self satisfied chuckle and let a few moments lapse before he quietly said, "You know, you are ahead of schedule on those classes. You can take a break, or maybe actually go to lunch, or just not work so hard. You have nothing to prove."

"I do to myself." I countered. "I want to get this done and over in record time."

He nodded his head in agreement. "Admirable, but if you don't give yourself a break you will start suffering the same symptoms of insanity you are studying. As the CMO I am ordering you to take the rest of the day off and do something relaxing."

I looked over at him and laughed. "Order? You ain't my daddy! CMO or not, I don't have to listen to you!" I teased.

He squinted at me and playfully grumbled, "Obey your husband, woman!"

That was it. "Fine. I will do something 'relaxing' like go find some young cadet and ply him full of Romulan Ale and… see where it goes from there." I smirked as I stood up and stretched. My body hurt from sitting in the chair so long.

He looked up at me from his computer screen and his expression was unexpected. It looked as though my playful jab hurt a little more than it should have and I felt bad. Ever since the night I decided to open up a little to him, things between us had changed. Not in a bad way, in fact we seemed even more in tune with each other, but there was something else- some unspoken, unrequited sense of sadness and devotion that we just chose to mutually live with in silence.

It was the strange, tingling feeling deep in the gut I got when the light reflected just right in his eyes and the small satisfaction that sitting next to him at dinner gave although we had been around each other all day in sickbay. I felt like a schoolgirl and it was such sweet misery because although I so desperately craved the human contact, I wasn't exactly sure how to navigate the sticky mess of a dual relationship. Still, it was getting harder and harder every day to ignore the gnawing tension that left us both in a hellish limbo between just friends and friends with benefits.

I would be lying if I said it didn't consume a greater portion of my day as time passed. The memory of his soft, warm lips usually had a front row seat, although I kept telling myself that he was drunk and would have been just as likely to kiss a fencepost given the chance. This is where it always fell apart. He had his own issues with a woman who was out to kill him in any way she could so I imagined another relationship would be the last thing he would want. And why me? He didn't really know me and I feared that once he did, he would run like any sane man should. Even I was running from who I was and so far not 250 Earth years or several hundred light years have been enough. In the end, it was just the wishful thinking of someone who was not in any way special. Since neither of us seemed brave enough to test the waters, we continued to sit in our mutual purgatory bound together by an exclusive sense of devotion to one another but too consumed by fear to actually taste the forbidden fruit. We had been damned for doing nothing at all.

"Of course I wouldn't do that." I revised with a small smile. "It would be unethical."

He returned the faint smile, but his eyes were full of misery. The unease could have just as easily been caused by lack of sleep, the never ending stack of paperwork on his desk, or losing at poker the night before, but I would have liked to think it was me. We were free to see other people, but doing so would feel like a betrayal and there was no good reason for it. I felt worse now than I did a few minutes ago; a numb brain is much better than one that spins and stews about things you have no answers for.

I wandered the halls aimlessly trying to refocus and regain some sense of clarity. I needed to put my brain on autopilot and just be for awhile, that meant no heavy discussions and nothing that required me to think too deeply. Immediately one person sprang to mind: Scotty. I headed down to the engine rooms already feeling some relief. Scotty was a brilliant man, of that there was no doubt, but he knew when to be a genius and when to just kick back and have a laugh. It was all seamlessly integrated for him.

The engine rooms were mostly quiet, unlike the last time I had come down and seen him brandishing a wrench and screaming like William Wallace in Braveheart rallying his troops. I chuckled, I could almost see Scotty with blue war paint on his face. "Come down slummin' again, lass?" Came a thickly accented voice from behind me. I turned to see Scotty with a clipboard and a smile and it was like salve on the soul.

"Yeah, I was taking a break from my classes." I replied. "Are you busy?"

He glanced at his clipboard and answered, "Nah. Ah was just doin' checks on the bits and parts. I dunno aboot ya', but Ah learned me lesson the last time the Captain had us play catch up. Wasn't much fun as Ah recall." He lamented. "Next time Ah will be kicked up in me office and enjoying a pint while ya poor bastards are runnin' like headless chickens. So how goes it with the studies? Has the good doctor right killed ya yet?" He inquired casually tossing the clipboard on top of a quietly whirring machine.

"It is tough, but I am managing." I admitted. "I am about halfway through, but he made me quit for the day. He said I would go blind."

Scotty chuckled and said, "Well, he'd know, an' it sounds like good advice. All work and no play and the like." He waved his hand vaguely as he trailed off. "Ah was beginin' to think we left ya at the last stop since Ah hadn't seen ya at dinner except for ya sprintin' through the cafeteria with a sandwich in your mouth and your face in a PADD. Uhura misses ya too. Do ya think ya can manage a swing by sometime to remind us who ya are?" He asked raising his eyebrows mockingly.

"I haven't forgotten you guys, I am just so busy with trying to get this done." I pleaded. "I miss you too, I just want to get this over."

He nodded his head and stated, "Aye, but Rome wasn't built in a day an' ya won't do us any good if ya spend all your time locked away and get bats in the belfry yourself. Do as ya like, but Ah am just tryin' to talk some sense into ya, lass."

I smiled widely at him. "I know, Scotty, and I appreciate it. You are right, I have been neglecting all of you in a mad dash to get through this. McCoy said I am ahead of schedule, so maybe I can drop by tomorrow at mealtimes. I miss talking to all of you and just enjoying down time with my friends."

"There ya are!" He exclaimed. "Ah know ya have a ways to go, but Ah just wanted to tell ya that Ah will be proud to serve with ya once ya graduate and earn your stripes." He smiled warmly and gave me a clap on the shoulder. "Ah knew ya had bollocks the minute Ah saw ya."

I laughed and said, "Thanks, Scotty, but when you first saw me you said you loved me and now I have balls? Are you trying to say you secretly love men? What would Uhura think about that?"

He broke into a loud guffaw that resonated off the metal surroundings. "Ya got me dead! But why is it everything we say revolves 'round male bits?"

"Well, Freud would say that you are secretly a homosexual and I have penis envy. Jung would say that the penis represents power and that is something you use to make me a subordinate, Skinner wouldn't have anything to say since there was no discreet stimulus-response cycle with which to quantify the behavior, and Dr. Ruth Westheimer would just tell us to go with it- penises are funny."

Before Scotty could state his preference, Chekov's voice interrupted with an announcement. "Attention! The Enterprise has received emergency orders from Starfleet to render aid to a disabled Klingon transport wessel in the alpha quadrant. The distress signal vas received about one hour ago and communications vith the wessel indicated it is completely incapacitated and contains 117 citizens. Ve vill be taking the individuals on board and escorting them to the nearest Starbase in Klingon airspace approximately…" He paused and Scotty and I looked warily at each other. When Checkov continued, his voice was somber, "four day's time. As you all know, ve are almost at full capacity. In order to accommodate the refugees, ve vill have to double or triple up. See your officers for assignments. The Captain vould like to remind everybody that he knows this is not good, but we must respect our guests. Anyone caught pinching the nose or vomiting will be disciplined. Thank you."

Slowly and steadily, Scotty's crew emerged from among the buzzing machinery to gather and look to him eagerly for their new rooming assignments. He looked back at them and muttered, "Bloody hell. Klingons. Ah tell ya for sure Ah am sleeping in me office. With good luck the stench won't drift down here." He stalked off to his office to grab his PADD and I went back to the sickbay. I just new McCoy would be stroking out right about now.


	3. Chapter 3 Dosey Doe

**Chapter 3- Dosey Doe**

When I arrived, McCoy was trying his best to put down the rebellion that was brewing in sickbay without cursing Jim, or Starfleet, or his crew that mumbled their displeasure with the edict. The crew was not opposed to rescuing other sentient beings, or sharing space to accommodate them, but they were unhappy that they were Klingons- fierce warriors with whom the Federation had no standing relationship and who apparently viciously opposed anything approaching adequate personal hygiene.

"I know this sucks for everyone," He shouted above the crowd looking at his PADD, "but rest assured that the command is not immune to this- we have to share just like you. We are all in this together, folks, so we might just as well suck it up and be the professionals we know we are and tough it out. This is not the worst thing that has happened."

"Damn close." Came a voice from among the crowd. A few people sniggered.

McCoy's head snapped up and scanned the crowd for the smart ass with a scowl. "We are not asking you to marry them, Perkins, but God knows that may be the closest you may get to ever finding a woman- even if she can kick your ass. But hell, half the nurses can do that anyway." The crowd turned to look and giggle at a tech who immediately turned red. By the look on his face, he was innocent of making the remark but it didn't matter. Once McCoy decided it was him, there was no refuting it. "Listen up!" He barked to regain their attention. "I am only going to read this once, so pay attention to your assignment. Do not come up to me and ask if you can switch with so-and-so, I am not a damn camp counselor. Commander Spock made the list. If you have a problem with his method, I suggest you go take it up with him if any of you actually have the balls to do so. No one will be sleeping down here and that is an order. This is a sickbay, not a hotel."

As he slowly read the list, the number of shocked and horrified faces grew as it became clear that in the interest of fairness and complete randomness, Spock made the lottery ship wide. This meant that the members of medical would have to bunk with engineers, security, and even support staff. Although most members got along, there was still a cliquish culture among the departments. It wasn't out of spite or a sense of superiority; it was just a natural evolution from seeing the same people every day. As a result, there were going to be a lot strangers sleeping together tonight and that made everyone just a little uncomfortable. There were many dismayed grumblings, but for the most part they were resigned to their fate because they knew McCoy wouldn't make any exceptions and no one wanted to face Spock.

We returned to the office and he plopped down in his chair with a relieved sigh. "Where are we?" I asked hesitantly taking my seat.

He scrolled through the file on his PADD and mumbled, "L. McCoy….." He found the entry and gave a sarcastic smile. "At least I get to keep my room. What the hell?! Chekov is with me."

I laughed despite myself. Poor Pavel. If I had trouble sleeping in McCoy's room, I could imagine Chekov on the floor with the blankets pulled up to his chin and his wide eyes staring at the bed the whole time in fear. He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "You get to keep your room too."

The smirk on his face was too wide for my liking. "Who do I have?" I asked with a great amount of trepidation.

"Jim!" McCoy burst out laughing. "If that doesn't beat all! The green blooded hobgoblin is too strict to even rig the draw enough to let the Captain keep his own room! Some lucky Klingon is going to get nice digs." He kept laughing as he let his PADD fall to the desk with a thud. "Jim! You will have a blast with that. Now you will get just a little taste of the shit I had to put up with for three long years." He kept laughing even as Jim appeared in the doorway as though he had been summoned. "Well, speak of the devil! I hope you have packed your things."

Jim's eyes were dull with disbelief. "Spock must be out of his Vulcan mind if he thinks I am going to give up my room. Sharing, I am fine with, but seriously? I am the Captain of this ship and I get bounced?" He asked with a huff. "He can eat his list because I know the others aren't happy. He put Uhura with Sulu and he got Scotty! That is trouble waiting to happen. The only thing that would have been worse would have been you sharing with him." He said pointing at McCoy.

"Not really." McCoy objected putting his hands behind his head. "Either I would have shot him up with a hypo in the first 5 minutes or I would have passed out of heat stroke because his room feels like the center of the Earth. I would get some peace and quiet one way or another."

Jim gave his lopsided grin to his scheming friend. "Anyway, the others are trying to make deals. Sulu wants to bunk with Chekov, but he is with you."

McCoy muttered, "He can have him."

"Right," Jim agreed, "so if Chekov goes to Sulu's, that leaves a spot in your room open. I am just going to demand to get my room back. Why don't you stay with me?" He asked gleefully.

"Oh no, Jim." McCoy protested. "I had enough time with you. Why should I give up my room? Who else wants to move?"

"That leaves Scotty and Uhura. Of course they want to be together but neither has a room. See where I am going with this, Bones?" Jim's blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "Come on, Bonsey, you'd be doing them both a big favor and it is for a good cause."

"Jesus, Jim! Why does it always have to be me?" McCoy asked rubbing his face in frustration. "Fine. If I say yes, then what about Collins? She is stuck with Spock."

"It's ok." I sighed. "I have a feeling we were both picked last for the kickball team so we should be fine." I liked Spock as an individual, but I had never had him in large doses and certainly not in such close proximity for sustained periods of time. I forced myself to smile and thought of it as an opportunity to maybe get to know him a little better. After all, he probably wouldn't be thrilled with the arrangement either, but we would just have to make the best of it.

"Thanks, Collins." Jim smiled. "You are a team player. Besides, I think the two of you would probably get along best. Now, that just leaves who moves in with who since you both have rooms."

"I can stay with him." I shrugged. "I don't really have anything to pack." McCoy's eyes fell to his desk and I knew he was asking himself how I could be so blasé about staying with Spock when I couldn't manage to do so with him, but I didn't want to explain.

Jim seemed to catch it as well and he quietly said, "Maybe we should all get packing then. We should reach the vessel soon. C'mon, Bones, I'll help you." He offered placing his hand on the doctor's shoulder. The room was heavy with sadness like a wet blanket and I was glad to get out before I suffocated.

It took me all of 10 minutes to pack my things and head up to deck 3 to Spock's room. I paused by McCoy's door, careful not to trip the chime, and listened to the soft shuffling of them packing. Neither was talking, but that didn't surprise me.

Spock greeted me with a small nod when he opened the door and gestured for me to enter with an outstretched arm. The room wasn't as hot as I remembered it last time. As though he were reading my mind, he stated, "I have reduced the ambient temperature of the room to a level I suspect may be suitable for our mutual comfort. I am aware that humans prefer a cooler atmosphere than Vulcans do."

"Thank you, Spock. That was kind of you." I complimented placing my small box of belongings on his desk.

"No need to thank me, Doctor. It was the logical course of action if we are to share the space over the course of the next four days." He droned standing with his hands behind his back. He didn't even seem relaxed in his own room.

"Are you going to dinner?" I asked politely. "We can go down together."

"I do not require food at this time, Doctor. I believe I will remain here and meditate while you go without me." He replied flatly.

"Actually, I was just going to grab something quickly and maybe study some more. Would it disturb you if I did that?" I inquired.

"Not at all. May I have your PADD?" He asked. I dug it out of the box and handed it to him, wondering if he was going to put it in silent mode so it wouldn't beep when I opened or closed files. Instead, he typed something in and then instructed, "Give me a 3 digit number that you will remember."

I thought about the usual suspects: the first numbers of my social security number, the area code of where I lived, the month and day of my birthday. But a light went off in my head. "260." I replied with a smile.

His eyes lingered on me for just a moment before he returned to the PADD with a slight scowl. "This number will now be your access code for all doors on the ship. Because of your impending rank and position, you have a level 5 security clearance- the same as Dr. McCoy."

"Thank you, Spock. It was frustrating not being able to open doors other than my own." I admitted.

He paused a moment before asking, "Doctor, may I inquire as to the significance of the numbers? They seem to have a special meaning to you."

"They do." I smiled. "It was the month and year I came. February '60. That is a date I don't think I will ever forget."

The corners of his mouth twitched as though he had suspected as much. "Enjoy your brief meal, Doctor." He stated quietly.

I made a bowl of soup and a turkey sandwich and had a seat by Scotty as I usually did. McCoy was not there and I suspected it was because he had many more belongings to pack than did I. Even with help, it would take him awhile to get his room ready for the next occupant. "Hey, you!" Uhura called with a smile when she joined us. "I thought you moved on and got bored with us."

"Never." I smiled.

Sulu and Chekov came in together and sat with us. "How is it you have so much crap, Pavel?" Sulu asked with a smile. "I think you have a picture of every object in the known universe. I didn't think we would have enough boxes."

"I like pictures." Pavel defended. "They remind me of things I forget."

"Me too, Pavel." I agreed. "The brain can't store information perfectly the way a picture can."

"So Morgan," Sulu said quietly leaning across the table, "I heard you drew Spock. That must be fun."

"Not true." I disputed putting my spoon down. "I drew Jim, but got traded to Spock when everyone wanted to square dance and switch partners." I gave each a mock scowl at which they smiled nervously. "But that is fine. Spock and I will get along. He is reasonable and it is only for a short time. I think I can manage."

"Aye, but Ah'm bloody glad it wasn't me. Ah wouldn't be able to sleep in his quarters without wonderin' if he was gonna throttle me in me sleep." Scotty muttered so only Uhura and I could hear.

"I don't so much mind all the chaos," Uhura stated, "but I just don't know how I am going to get through these next four days with a ship full of Klingons that smell like a dead fish. I am all for extending a hand and forging good will toward new civilizations, but I don't want to wear a gas mask while I do it."

"Eat up now then." Sulu laughed. "We probably won't have much of an appetite for the next week."

I hurried through my meal and returned to Spock's quarters. I punched in my code and felt a little burst of pride when it slid open. The room was dim and soft music floated down from the ceiling. Spock sat on the floor facing his bed in a lotus position and I tried to take a seat near the bathroom so the light from my PADD wouldn't disturb him. He seemed so peaceful I found myself a bit envious.

My eyes were heavy and strained against the bright light of the screen. I blinked a few times, but it didn't help. I closed them, just for a few minutes I told myself. Just until Spock was finished and I could make a bed on the floor and go to sleep. When I woke up, I was in his bed and he was nowhere to be found. The soft sheets held just a hint of the same scent I detected on his skin when he carried me to the sickbay. Just like then, I found it relaxing and comforting even though my brain shouted I should feel anxious. Instead of fretting, I curled up and drifted back to sleep in the warmth of the blankets, feeling safe and content.


	4. Chapter 4 Captain Jim's Supper Club

**Chapter 4- Captain Jim's Supper Club**

I was busier than I ever had been since Jim's death march of psych evals for the brass. I was so busy, in fact, for the first time I had to co-opt one of McCoy's techs as a secretary to actually schedule and manage my appointments. The complaints all congealed around two basic issues: acute adjustment disorders and mediating tiffs between parties around who got the bed vs. the floor and bathroom habits. It was amazing how territorial humans were and how quickly they could forget basic social skills. It was like watching 'Lord of the Flies' in action- the quickness with which the social fabric of the ship disintegrated was frightening.

The ship was absolutely swarming with Klingons, but thankfully the smell was so overwhelming and constant that after awhile I didn't even notice. I greeted them when I passed them in the hall, but all I ever got was a sideways glance and a dismissive growl with bared teeth. I gave up after awhile until I remembered the unusual greeting that nearly scared me to death the first time I saw them on the view screen on the bridge. "Die quickly and decay." I said to a particularly mean looking Klingon female as we stood in the lift. She turned to me and nodded as she struck her chest with a closed fist. I returned my gaze forward with a small, victorious smile.

McCoy was busy most the day knee deep in Klingons in the sickbay. They were just about as resistant to treatment as Jim, but McCoy couldn't deal with them as he would have the stubborn Captain. At first he tried to be diplomatic, but in the end he resorted to his default setting of irascibility. This nearly led to outright warfare until Uhura saved the day by locating the Klingon Captain and persuaded him to order compliance from his people using his own language. This was but one of the many fires she put out all over the ship when Klingon custom clashed with Federation culture.

Jim and Spock were tied up escorting the Klingon Captain and his commanders around the ship on a show and tell on behalf of the Federation. It was a sales pitch of sorts, but it was required by Starfleet in order to gain as many allies as possible. It made sense, but it didn't make the task any easier for them especially since Jim had a harder time masking his nausea than did Spock. The bridge was quiet with only Chekov to man the stations and Sulu in command for perhaps the longest stretch of time to date. Not that he would ever complain, he rather enjoyed sitting in the Captain's chair.

I was off the hook so to speak because according to my studies, if Klingons would rather die than receive medical care, there was no way they were going to tolerate speaking of feelings or admitting to fear or anything but absolute murderous rage- which was perfectly acceptable to them. It was just as well, I had a full dance card with the crew as it was and I had been running from one room to the next since my shift started. At 18:25 I got a message from the tech informing me that I should report to the Captain's quarters. It wasn't marked urgent and I still had 4 appointments, so I acknowledged it and tried to ignore the increasingly loud rumbling in my gut. I had showed up for lunch as I promised Scotty I would, but 10 forward was full of Klingons and I lost my appetite. Judging by the paucity of Starfleet uniforms present in the room, so had most of the staff.

When I finally made it to Jim's at 19:17, I could hear the noise of several voices in the hall and the sound of big band music. It sounded like a 1920's speakeasy that was hopping. He opened the door with a wide smile and exclaimed, "Doc! Glad you could make it. Better late than never. C'mon in and join us!" I entered the room and he continued. "I decided to host a little get together for the bridge crew."

"Bullshit." McCoy grumbled with a mouth full of steak. "It was my idea. If we didn't do something the crew would starve by the time the week was out. Nobody could eat when the cafeteria smelled worse than the food."

"Also his idea." He mumbled pointing to the ceiling to indicate the choice of music. It was kind of charming, I thought. The whole thing reminded me of supper clubs where food and drink were served among friends until the wee hours of the morning.

"Pull up a seat." Uhura smiled pointing at an empty seat at the table with McCoy, Spock, and Jim. Scotty returned from the replicator and took a seat next to her on the side of Jim's bed. Chekov sat on the end sharing the desk with Sulu who sat in the chair with a satisfied smile. It looked like most had finished eating and had moved on to after dinner drinks, but I was so hungry I knew alcohol in a pressurized cabin on an empty stomach was probably not the best idea. I made some macaroni and cheese and took my seat.

McCoy looked at the gooey yellow blob on my plate in amusement. "After the kind of day I had, I need some good old fashioned comfort food." I explained.

He shrugged and replied, "Have at it, but I hear you. My day wasn't exactly a bed of roses. Didn't smell like it either."

"Could've been a lot worse." Uhura chuckled. "Nice touch in threatening a member of a culture that never backs down from a challenge. You are lucky he didn't cut your throat when you told him to get up on the table or you would make him. Never mind he was easily twice your size."

"Size don't matter." McCoy growled. "A well placed hypo injection is the great equalizer. I once had a 7 foot tall Gorn with a nasty case of parasites. He fought, but in the end I won. I rode on his back while he thrashed and spun around the room trying to get me off. It was like getting a piggyback ride on a mini-Godzilla."

Jim looked over at his friend with an incredulous smirk as he shook his head slowly. "You are an insufferable bastard sometimes, Bones."

"Yup." He agreed wiping his mouth and tossing his napkin in his plate. "I have a hypo with your name all over it. Wanna go for a ride?"

"You know, Bones, if you were one of the 7 deadly sins I would say you were wrath." He laughed.

"Here here!" Scotty agreed.

"Better than lust." McCoy shot back with a playful smirk. The room exploded in cat calls and whistles.

Jim's smile only widened. He knew he been had. He turned to me and asked, "What about you, Collins? What would you be?"

"Sure as hell ain't sloth." McCoy interjected with a squint.

"Do I have to pick just one?" I joked.

"There it is! Greed!" Sulu smiled.

"I vote pride for Uhura and gluttony for Scotty. Nobody can put away hooch like he does." Jim observed.

"Aye. I do love me drink." Scotty sighed. Uhura gave her Captain a bitingly sarcastic smile for his assessment. As much as I considered her a friend, I couldn't disagree with Jim. She was self-assured to say the least.

"I say Chekov as greed as well. The kid has no stopping sense at poker. He doesn't quit until he even owns the lint in your pocket." Sulu chuckled. If what he told me about his propensity for card counting was correct, I had no doubt that he would use it to amass a small fortune.

"Vhat about you?" Pavel asked a little offended. "I say sloth. Not because you are lazy, but you don't use all your talents and that is just as much a sin."

"Good one, Pavel. Russian Orthodox?" I guessed.

"The strictest." He said with pride and everyone in the room laughed. At least he didn't claim that Russians had invented Catholicism as they supposedly did everything else. Smallpox vaccine? Russians did it. The internet? The Russians. Air? Russians invented that too.

"What about you, Spock?" Jim asked with a smile. "Which of the 7 deadly are you?"

Spock sat stiffly and replied, "I do not understand what you are asking, Jim. I am not guilty of any of the things you have mentioned. Even if I were, I fail to see how they could lead to one's demise."

McCoy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Christ, Jim. You should know better than to ask him that." He looked across the table at Spock and added, "I will say that you inhumanly don't show most of them. You are not lustful, greedy, lazy, gluttonous, envious, or wrathful. But you are most certainly prideful. I have never seen a more smug bastard than you. You have that one in spades."

"Doctor, I do not consider myself better than you as an individual. There is, however, no denying that I do surpass your skills in several areas and I do not see how ignoring this fact makes me guilty of anything, let alone place a mark on my soul that would damn it to your Hell." He replied calmly.

"I am already in my Hell and you, damn green blooded hobgoblin, are it." McCoy mumbled getting up to get a shot of whiskey. Spock blinked slowly as he pondered McCoy's insult.

"Who wants to dance?" Uhura asked pulling Scotty to his feet.

"Are you kidding?" Jim scoffed. "I can't dance to this shit."

"You have no appreciation for good music or history, Jim." I scolded. "This era was the birth of the most difficult style of dance: swing. It takes a lot of energy and skill to throw your partner around double time without killing them."

He looked up at the ceiling where the silky smooth voice of Doris Day slowly sang 'Sentimental Journey' accented by a strong brass section of horns floated down. The recording had a slightly muffled, scratchy tone to it as though it were being played on an old Victrola, making it all the more wonderful to my ears. If I closed my eyes, I could see the crew in period khaki military uniforms and it made me smile.

"Wanna show Jim how it's done?" McCoy's voice drifted across the table. I was up for the challenge, so we joined Scotty and Uhura twirling in slow circles between the table and bed. We danced close together and whispered small apologies in each other's ears when we accidently stepped one another's feet. The music was slow and he was warm, making me feel as though I were floating. McCoy was just a bit taller than I, so I had a clear view of his neck and the carotid artery that thumped as though his heart were racing despite the slow pace. Once when Uhura and I were facing each other in a spin, she gave me a small wink and I tried not to laugh.

"That's great, guys." Jim groused from the table. "There are only two women and six dudes. Are we at least going to take turns?" Uhura and I obliged and danced with the others as well. Spock, as usual, refused to participate so that was one less we had to fit in. Both Jim and Sulu were smooth, but it took a little coaching to get Pavel to relax. In the end, the first dance was the best and I found myself saddened when Jim called it a night before we could have a second go. I had fun with the others, but none of them felt the way McCoy did in that small space that we called our own for the time we had.


	5. Chapter 5 People and Photons

**A/N: I couldn't help but get a little geeky here. It's Spock! If I didn't explain transporters well enough and you are just as nerdy as me, check out "Physics of the Impossible" by Michio Kaku. He has an entire section devoted to transporter technology written beautifully in layman's terms with a sense of humor. Cheers!**

**Chapter 5- People and Photons**

Spock and I walked together to his quarters. My brain was still buzzing with the memory of the way McCoy felt and a semi-permanent smile was plastered on my face. I tried my best to preserve the moment in my memory just as it felt: the swirling electricity that bounced between us, the slightly antiseptic smell of his skin from being in the sickbay all day, the way the entire room seemed to collapse around us. That one magical moment was better than crystal meth.

Spock walked quietly beside me with his hands behind his back smirking as much as he could possibly allow himself without actually doing so. He could have easily hidden his inner world from me, he had several times before; which led me to believe he had every intention of me seeing it. "What are you smiling about?" I asked playfully.

"I might ask the same of you, Doctor." He retorted slyly.

"But I am a human and humans smile, Vulcans don't." I challenged.

"Vulcans have the same musculature surrounding the mouth as do humans, so we are not precluded from doing so." He replied in his usual 'you aren't going to win this' tone. I stood in the lift for the short ride to the next floor down pondering what Spock would look like with a full on, toothy smile. They say that smiles were a universal greeting, but I found the mental image of him grinning almost as frightening as I did the grimace of Klingons. If anything it proved that smiles may have been the currency of goodwill on Earth, but that certainly wasn't true across the entire universe or even among humanoid species.

"Spock, why didn't you dance tonight? Do you not know how?" I inquired.

He seemed surprised by my curiosity. "On the contrary. I was taught to dance as a child on Vulcan, both in the traditional styles as well as some Earth methods taught to me by my mother- without my father's knowledge, of course." He seemed pleased at his clandestine activities. "I do not dance because it is the activity of children. Adults do dance, but only for very sensitive rituals. We do not dance for pleasure as humans do."

"I see." I sighed taking a seat at his desk. "What was it like on Vulcan? If you don't mind discussing it." I quickly added. It only dawned on me halfway through the sentence that he may not feel like reminiscing when his planet no longer existed.

"I do not mind." He answered standing at attention by his bed. "What would you like to know?"

"What was your education like? It seems the educational system was regarded as one of the toughest." I began.

He looked at the floor and gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "It was more difficult than that of the Romulans or even the humans. We were required to study many hours a day in front of banks of computers that quizzed us on many topics. This system assured that logic and reason were strengthened over emotion and it lasted until my 17th year. At that time, I went before the Council and was accepted to the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Is that like a college?" I interrupted.

He paused and deliberated before answering, "It would have been similar to what in your time was the National Academy of Sciences."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "That is a pretty big deal, then. Pretty much only Nobel Prize winners were inducted. That is quite an accomplishment, then."

"Yes," he said dryly, "that was also the assessment of the Council. They believed it nearly impossible for a human-Vulcan hybrid such as I to accomplish that honor. Despite my sustained effort to excel, I was still viewed as the weak bastard son of a human mother. So, I turned my back on the Council and was the first Vulcan to join Starfleet."

"Were you?" I asked in awe. "Did you find it difficult?"

A small sigh escaped his lips and that for me was a clear indication of the weight of his struggle. "Being the first of anything is difficult, Doctor." He replied vaguely. "But I do believe that more was expected of me than of the other cadets."

"So you gave it to them." I guessed.

"I performed at the highest level possible." He corrected.

It was sad to me that he would feel the need to work himself to death to impress who? Starfleet? Himself? The culture he left behind? "It seems as though Vulcans considered you a pariah because of your mother's heritage. Did that change when you enlisted?"

"Only in the respect that now it was my Vulcan heritage that was feared and despised." He calmly stated as though it didn't bother him in the least. "Of course not everyone viewed my genetic makeup as problematic, but enough did that I questioned my decision. I often pondered the possibility that I would have been just as well had I joined the Science Academy. Was it better to be ostracized by your own people or by a culture with which you only had the most tenuous connection?"

"So what did you decide?" I asked quietly.

He shifted his weight and swallowed. "I am uncertain, but what I do know is that I would no longer exist if I stayed on Vulcan. I likely would have perished with the rest. I have attained a measure of respect in Starfleet that I would like to believe is based on my performance record. At the very least, Starfleet gave me the opportunity to prove my worth as an individual, no matter my genesis." His eyes again settled on me, but they were resolute. "May I ask you a question, Doctor?"

"Sure." I agreed. It seemed a small request considering the amount of forthrightness he had afforded me.

"Why are you joining Starfleet?" He seemed genuinely curious.

I gave a small laugh and answered, "I didn't really have a choice."

"There is always a choice." He insisted. "You could have declined Jim's offer. It was a valid option to your circumstance."

"Not really. In order to keep my job, I have to do this and I will. I will admit it, I am scared."

He cocked his head slightly to the left and took a small step toward me. "Why is that, Doctor?"

"I am a little old for boot camp. You of all people should know that I am no athlete! But beyond that, it feels like handing the reigns over to an entity I am not sure I will like or trust. Right now I am free to do as I like without consulting anyone. Once I sign the dotted line, I am giving up control of my life, where I go, what I do, who I associate with. Everything changes." I sighed. "I like being the master of my own destiny." He seemed to understand. "But I have to because I love my job and I have come to deeply appreciate the crew. They have become like a second family to me and I just can't find it in myself to leave them. In short I guess I am joining because in the end it will be easier to endure than the thought of leaving."

"The intensity of the imagined bonds you share is fascinating." He commented with a raised eyebrow. "It is not typical of humans to put aside their own desires for the good of another."

"We do it all the time!" I protested. "That is exactly what being in a relationship involves. Sometimes you have to forget what you want to make your partner happy. It is all give and take. At least that is how it is supposed to work."

"Humans are perhaps the most interesting creatures I have observed. Your kind is inherently selfish and yet altruistic at the same time. The root of any given behavior is illogical and the outcome relentlessly unpredictable." He noted.

"Well yes! If you are trying to paint our entire species with one broad stroke you will be disappointed. If you look at the individual, you will find that humans are in fact very predictable." I explained. "For example, what would Jim do if he came up to the bridge one morning and you were sitting in his chair?"

"That would not occur, Doctor. There is no reason for me to do so unless he assigned the command to me in his absence." He stated simply.

"Ok, maybe you accidently fell into it. It doesn't matter why you were there." I revised.

"Falling into his chair would require a major shift in the ship's equilibrium. In essence I would have to perform a summersault over my station to land in the command chair." He continued. "And such an event is highly improbable."

"Improbable, but not impossible." I persisted. "Really, Spock, you are making this much harder than it needs to be. Who cares why or how you came to be in the chair. What would Jim do?"

"I believe the exact circumstances would dictate his response, Doctor. However, I believe he would most likely place his hands on his hips and widen his eyes momentarily and then proceed to laugh loudly."

"I think he would too." I agreed. "Now what would Sulu do if Chekov began taking food off his plate without asking?"

He thought about it and replied, "It would be rude for Mr. Chekov to appropriate food from Mr. Sulu's tray without seeking permission, however, Mr. Sulu would most likely allow him to do so without retribution."

"Exactly." I concurred. "See? It really isn't that hard. When people act in groups, then it starts going sideways because group dynamics are a little more difficult than individual behaviors. But that is probably best left to sociologists and anthropologists anyway."

"Perhaps I am better suited to natural sciences than social ones." He mused.

"They are very different, but I like them both. That reminds me, I read about temporary psychoses caused by transporter accidents. I get how someone could come unglued if they don't reappear in the same order as they left, but I don't really understand how transporters work. Can you explain it to me?" I requested.

He seemed to stand a bit straighter if it was possible and began his lecture. "If I recall, you stated at the first dinner you had with us that you had studied physics. Is this correct?"

"I did." I agreed.

"Then you may recall a principle of quantum physics called entanglement?" He prodded.

"Yeah. It is the ability of two atoms to vibrate in unison so that if one spins left the other automatically spins right no matter how far apart they are. Action at a distance it was also called." I was surprised I remembered it after all those years.

"Exactly. So the way in which a transporter works is Scotty scans the location and velocity of the atoms that construct your body." I began to object and he anticipated it. "The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle previously disallowed this, but modern transporter pads have been fitted with compensators. Think of the molecules in your body as Group A. He then assembles a blank group in the location he wishes you to appear in; this is Group C. In between is Group B which is located in the computer. The information from Group A is copied to Group B. Because of entanglement, the blank molecules take on the information from group B and a reconstituted copy is made. Group A is then destroyed so two copies of you do not simultaneously exist and your 'signature' remains in the computer as a result of entanglement."

I struggled to follow, but slowly caught up. "So in very real terms, my body as I know it is destroyed."

"After it has reconstituted, yes." He agreed as though this were a completely normal state to find yourself in.

"So every time I step on the pad, I die." I clarified.

He lowered his voice and answered, "In a manner of speaking, yes."

_Now I see why McCoy was so freaked out by transporters!_

"The light that you see as a person dissolves are photons which are released as the copy is destroyed." He continued.

"Well, we are all made of stardust. We might as well shine like one as it goes supernova." I mumbled.


	6. Chapter 6 The Trouble with Klingons

**Chapter 6- The Problem with Klingons**

I almost wished I hadn't asked Spock how transporters worked. The slow tearing apart of molecular bonds and gluing copies of them back together again somewhere else really disturbed me. They say that ignorance is bliss and in this case it was most certainly true, it seemed it was all I could think about. Now it all made sense- the 'accidents' that left people with missing or rearranged parts, the 'loss' of a signature that forever scattered you to the winds. It was important to note that accidents didn't happen often, but it only took one time in my opinion. It was all so much easier when it just looked like a magic trick.

It was only day three with the Klingons on board and already they had overstayed their welcome in the estimation of most of the crew. Arguments were becoming increasingly common as small slights such as not waiting in line for the lift or taking turns using the replicators often devolved into shouting matches. To the Klingons, might made right so if they could shove their way to the front of the line, it was their right to do so as the stronger breed. Sickbay was swamped with a constant flow of Starfleet members in need of first aid when the shouting came to blows.

One poor engineer became the victim of an impromptu game of hide and seek in the engine rooms when a Klingon child snuck down there and hid in a compartment until he walked by. The rules governing the well known game apparently differed between the species. Instead of the seeker tagging the hider out, Klingon hiders attacked seekers in order to disable them. The engineer sustained a very nasty bite wound to his lower leg in a game he didn't even know he was playing. Surprisingly, Scotty thought it was funny but now carried a large wrench with him at all times just in case.

It was difficult for the crew because they were stuck in a terrible position. As representatives of the Federation, they were expected to show grace and courage in the face of the numerous insults they endured. Yet when push came to shove, they were not permitted to use any weaponry to defend themselves although the Klingons were under no such restrictions. Thus, as a safety measure, people began traveling in groups hoping that being in a pack would discourage an escalation in violence. This was not always the case, sadly. Still, McCoy and I traveled together whenever we entered or left sickbay. He always carried a fully loaded hypo and insisted it wasn't a weapon- it was a tool of his trade that he would not hesitate to use. I had enough experience not to doubt him for a second. It was horrible feeling like a hostage on your own ship.

I can't express the amount of sheer joy it gave the crew when the Klingons figured out how to access the ship's paging system. The native language was harsh like sandpaper on the ears and it was random, but almost constant. One of the nurses expressed a concern that the Klingons may have been plotting a hostile takeover of the ship, because no one spoke the language we wouldn't see it coming. It seemed a logical possibility given the nature of the culture, so McCoy and I crept along the hallways to the lift like some special forces team and went to the bridge. When we arrived, Uhura held her head in her hands as yet another audio assault began. Spock looked to the ceiling and raised his eyebrow. His face was neutral, but by the look in his eye he was clearly irritated. Chekov covered his ears.

"What are they saying?" McCoy shouted over the flood of harsh consonants and growling.

Uhura shook her head and sighed, "They are insulting each other. The last one just told someone named Mor'tah his mother has a smooth forehead." McCoy and I looked at her in confusion. "The knots on the forehead are a sign of lineage. The bigger the better." She explained.

"Captain, is there any way we can make them stop before my ears start bleeding?" Sulu pleaded.

Jim attempted to reply, but was cut off by another barrage. "Mor'tah told Kornan his mother was a tribble." Uhura translated. Jim thought that was hysterical.

I leaned close to McCoy and asked, "What's a tribble?"

He used his hands to indicate a circle approximately 8 inches in diameter and replied, "Little furry balls that purr. All they do is eat and reproduce if you feed them too much."

I frowned and clarified, "Like Gremlins when you get them wet?"

"Uh….sure." He answered sarcastically. He obviously didn't have a clue what a Gremlin was.

Yet another message came across the intercom and Chekov let his head fall heavily onto his console in torment. "That's it!" Jim yelled from his chair. "Chekov! Wait for them to take a goddamn breath and cut in on the chat fest. Tell the ship we are shutting down the com system and switching to communicators. Every crewmember should have one and we will be using them until further notice. Mr. Sulu, can't you make the ship go warp 20 to get us to the damn starbase any faster?!"

"Negative, Sir." Sulu chuckled, "If there were any way possible I would."

"Fine." He huffed. "Mr. Spock, you have the com. I am going to go duct tape myself to the hull until we reach Klingon airspace." He got up and stormed toward the lift with McCoy and I in tow.

"Very well, Captain. Will you have your communicator with you in the event I must contact you?" He asked dryly.

"Getting it now." Jim grumbled.

"I don't know how much longer we can do this, Jim." McCoy sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We are running low on first aid supplies because these smelly bastards think it is perfectly fine to take a swipe at someone's head for looking at them sideways. They have taken over the rec room and yesterday I found one of them passed out on the floor of the lift."

"What was wrong with him?" Jim asked leading the way to his quarters.

"Drunk off his ass." McCoy replied rolling his eyes. "So I just left him there. Fuck him. The lit bastard was still there when I went to dinner."

"I know, Bones, but this wasn't my idea. Starfleet thinks that they might join the Federation if we show them some mercy. I told the Admiral it was bullshit. Klingons are mercenaries. They will take the ride back to their territory and then at some random time attack us when it suits them. Their loyalty lies with the highest bidder." He sighed and looked around his room with a frown. "Now where did I put my damn communicator?"

"How in the hell would I know?" McCoy grumbled. "I see nothing has changed since the Academy."

Jim looked at his friend and smiled. "Bonsey! Can I have yours?"

"Then what the hell am I going to use? In case you forgot, I have a whole medical department to run. I just might need it." He scowled.

"You can use Collins'. The two of you are practically joined at the hip anyway." Jim laughed.

McCoy narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "It is for safety so neither of us gets jumped by one of the boogeymen, you dick."

Jim crossed his arms and smiled wide. He clearly thought McCoy was full of shit. "I do not have one." I interjected. "I only have a PADD but I can help you look for yours."

"If you were a bit more organized, Jim, we wouldn't have to waste our time with this." McCoy scolded, still simmering from being called out. He retrieved his communicator from a box and began to search through the desk drawers for Jim's.

"In a hurry to get back to sickbay?" Jim casually taunted looking through his closet.

"I probably have a line out the door by now." McCoy grumbled opening and then slamming the drawers one by one.

I looked under the bed and struck gold- in more ways than one. I found his communicator under a pair of lavender silk and lace panties. You would think someone would be missing those- unless Jim had a secret I didn't know about. "Found it!" I declared waving it in the air. I decided discretion was the better part of valor and kept the presence of the panties to myself even though I found a passing comment about Jim's cross dressing almost too juicy to pass up. After all, had McCoy been the one to find it, he would have been merciless with his taunting.

We had about an hour left in the shift, so we returned to deck 5. We were just about to turn the corner when we were both blindsided by a very angry Klingon. He smashed us both into the wall as though he were cross checking in hockey. McCoy and I went crashing into the immobile wall with more force than I thought was possible and then we fell to the floor. I was startled both by the unprovoked aggression and the momentary disorientation that came with having your brain sloshing about in your skull. Even though my vision was fuzzy, I saw the Klingon point at McCoy who had sat up slowly holding his head. Both made unintelligible noises that sounded similar to me, but I guessed McCoy was muttering in pain while the Klingon was simply speaking.

The Klingon grabbed him by the shirt and roughly hauled him to his feet as though he weighed nothing and began yelling until a thick foam of saliva formed around his jagged teeth. McCoy's eyes were glazed at first and he watched the Klingon's mouth move in placid confusion, but slowly his eyes became sharper as he regained his faculties. I watched his hand slowly snake into a pocket while his eyes remained fixed on the angry Klingon's face. In one quick movement, he jabbed the hypo under the Klingon's chin and pulled the trigger. The Klingon dropped him and stumbled backward in a daze before falling to the floor with an awesome thud. McCoy took a few small steps forward and leaned over him, swaying slightly on his feet while he placed two fingers on the Klingon's neck to check for a pulse.

"He's good." He declared standing up rubbing his temples in a circular motion. "Fucker."

I stood up and was hit by a wave of dizziness and nausea. I knew exactly what that meant. "What was that all about?" I asked trying to breathe deeply to quell the urge to vomit.

"I think that was the dumbass I threatened yesterday." He sighed. "But I can't really be sure. Are you ok?"

"About as well as you." I said shortly. "Which is to say not really."

"Shit." He muttered. He knew as well as I did that we had to get checked out and that likely meant an automatic 3 day medical for concussions. "There's no getting out of this, is there?" He asked despondently. Translation- 'you are going to tell on me aren't you?'

"I don't know about you, McCoy, but I would rather take a 3 day over having permanent brain damage. I kinda like not having my only talent being sitting upright in a chair drooling." I smiled.

"Good point." He squinted but I couldn't tell if it was one of his usual expressions or if it was because his head hurt. "Let's get this over with then."

"What are you going to do about him?" I asked pointing at the unconscious Klingon.

He looked down at him and replied, "Leave him there. After his nap he will wake up none the worse for wear. Fuck him. That's what he gets for attacking me."

"I hope he doesn't come for you." I sighed.

"If things go as I think they will, we will both be flat on our backs in our rooms for the next 3 days. He will have to find me first." He stated slyly.

"Good point." I agreed holding my head as we walked the short distance to sickbay to check ourselves in.


	7. Chapter 7 Bedside Manners

**Chapter 7- Bedside Manners**

It wasn't the most embarrassing thing I had ever experienced on the ship since my arrival; McCoy's 32 point inspection work over exam took the cake for that honor. However, seeing Jim and Spock standing between our beds at full attention with grim faces ran a pretty close second. They had been summoned by the fellow that diagnosed McCoy and I with mild traumatic brain injuries, or as we used to call them, concussions. The new vernacular of TBI had started to be more widely used around the time I left Earth and I never understood the need to make something sound more horrific than it really was. It made it seem like part of my brain had fallen out of a random orifice in my head when I hit the wall.

Jim and Spock listened intently as the fellow gave explicit instructions to our caretakers. Being hovered over by the nurses he supervised was just too much of an insult for McCoy and I didn't want to stay down there either, so it was agreed we could be discharged if our roommates agreed to take responsibility for us especially during the first 24 hours. I wasn't sure which of us was worse off: McCoy because his injury was just a bit more severe than mine due to his being the intended target and Jim's lackadaisical approach to just about everything he did, or me because I knew that like a tape recorder, Spock was cataloging every syllable that fell from the fellow's mouth with the intent of executing the list of instructions down to the letter without exception.

"It is important to wake them every 2 hours for the first 24. When you wake them, ask a question that they should know the answer to or have them count backwards for at least 30 seconds." The fellow said.

Jim looked over at McCoy with a smile. "This could be fun, Bones! I get to play trivial pursuit with you." He looked back to the fellow and asked, "What if he gets the question wrong? Do I get to keep asking until he gets one right?" He was clearly enjoying this way more than he should have been.

"It should be a question that he would know such as his full name, where he grew up, how to spell 'Mississippi', things like that. If he gets those wrong or seems confused, bring him back." She answered.

Jim seemed disappointed. "Damn. I was going to ask him questions from the sports section, he sucks at those. We could have been at that for hours."

"No we wouldn't." McCoy disagreed. "I would bang my head on the floor until grey matter leaked out my nose. I never want to hear you bitch about my bedside manner again, Jim. You suck."

The fellow smiled and continued. "It is absolutely vital that they not be allowed to take aspirin during this time. No matter how much they beg, do not let them. If they begin vomiting or complaining of visual disturbances, bring them back immediately."

"Why is that?" Jim inquired with a little more charm than the question required. He was obviously flirting with the female fellow and I would have rolled my eyes if it didn't hurt so much.

"Because aspirin masks the more serious symptoms of a head injury and vomiting and visual changes are classic signs of increasing intracranial pressure. If left unchecked, it will progress to seizures and death." I answered for her. Spock looked down at me and raised his eyebrow slightly. "This is closer to what I actually did on Earth, the head trauma stuff." I explained waving my hand nonchalantly. "Good old biology and physiology."

"After the first 24 hours, you can wake them up every six and just have them say a few things. After that they should be fine." She concluded.

Jim and Spock thanked her and McCoy and I sat up. My head was throbbing and it seemed like every noise was amplified by a magnitude of 10. I wondered if this was how Spock felt with his enhanced hearing. If that were so, he probably had a headache every day. Jim gently patted McCoy on the shoulder when he squinted and put his hand to his head. "Are you ok, Bones?" The tone of his voice was soft and full of genuine concern. "Christ, I haven't seen you look this bad since you took a chair to the head back in the Academy at Whiskey Pete's."

The memory seemed to make McCoy's agony worse, "No thanks to you. I was trying to get you out of that shithole of a dive bar in one piece and I almost did it until you gave one hell of a haymaker to that Andorian. Then the shit really hit the fan."

Jim smiled and defended himself. "He insulted the girl I was with! What was I supposed to do?"

McCoy squinted up at him long enough to ask, "You just picked her up 20 minutes before! What was her name?"

Jim looked at the floor and licked his lips in concentration. Finally he gave up and said, "Ah. Doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge and all that."

McCoy scoffed. "Do you even remember what she looked like?"

Once more Jim thought about it until he laughed, "Not really, no."

"Well then. I am glad to see that it was all worth it including using my code to sneak into the clinic at 3am dripping blood from a 6 inch gash in my scalp." McCoy said bitterly.

Jim rolled his eyes and sighed, "It was only 4 and like it was the first time we ever snuck into the clinic after hours. By that time it was almost a weekend ritual. Besides, you have to admit that I did a pretty good job sealing it with the laser thingy even though it was my first time."

"Bullshit!" McCoy spat. "That was not the first time. Your mother had one and you told me you used it on yourself when you were a kid."

Jim glanced nervously at me. Head injury or not, I grasped that his mother was in Starfleet medical. Was she a doctor too? And why would he need to seal his own wounds as a child? Who was supposed to be taking care of him?

"C'mon, Bones. Let's get you to bed." Jim said quickly helping his friend up.

McCoy scowled and jerked his arm away. "Don't pander to me like I am some kind of invalid, kid. I don't need a walker just yet."

Jim looked back at me and grinned. I mouthed the words 'good luck' to him and he smiled wider and waved it off as though it were going to be no big deal. He followed closely behind McCoy, ready to steady him if he became dizzy and I found it endearing. As I watched him slowly and patiently trail the grumpy doctor, I wondered if he was just overconfident or if he had enough prior experience to be comfortable with his task. I smiled and speculated on the possibility that he had more medical knowledge than he let on, hiding yet another of his talents as he did so many others. He certainly was a tightly wrapped mystery that I found intriguing.

"Do you require mobility assistance, Doctor?" Spock asked politely.

I smiled and replied, "I think I can manage." Pandering indeed.

"As you wish, Doctor." He stated grabbing my elbow to steady me as I stood up. "However, it would not be physically taxing for me to carry you if necessary."

"Thanks, Spock, but I would rather not. I want to walk on my own." I answered trying my best not to reflect the nausea I felt as I stood up. "You know, you did seem to have superhuman strength."

"Indeed, Vulcans have greater grip and tensile strength than humans." He said rather dispassionately.

As we slowly made our way to the lift I asked, "Is there anything Vulcans do not do better than humans? You seem superior in every way, but it is starting to sound like Chekov going on about how invincible Russia is. At some point it just becomes ridiculous."

He paused in the hall where the Klingon lie on his back, mouth agape in a drug induced sleep. "Nothing comes to mind, Doctor, but I will let you know." He said slowly taking in the sight.

"He is going to be pissed when he wakes up." I chuckled. "McCoy totally disrespected him by knocking him out and leaving him in the hall for all his crewmates to see. Hardly an honorable defeat."

He looked back to me with just a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Dr. McCoy was responsible for this?"

"Yeah." I replied finally reaching the lifts. "That was the one that attacked us. K.O. by hypo- McCoy remains the undisputed champion of the special weapons category."

We entered the lift and he commanded it to go to 3. "Why were you and Dr. McCoy attacked? Was the Klingon provoked?"

"Yes and no." I sighed. "McCoy thinks that is the same one that he got into an argument with in sickbay the first day they came. I don't think he was after me, McCoy and I were pretty close together when he attacked, so I was just a bonus." I saw the corners of his mouth curl again, but I was too disoriented to care.

When we arrived at his quarters, he stated, "You will rest in my bed for the remainder of the time we are to share and I will rest on the floor."

"No, Spock!" I protested. "It is your room, I can't take your bed from you. I will be fine on the floor."

He stood at attention and used a slightly harsher tone. "You are not taking anything from me, Doctor, I am offering it to you. And as it is indeed my quarters, the bed is mine to give. It is the only logical arrangement given recent developments. I will wait outside while you change into your sleeping clothes. Dancing bears, perhaps?" He teased with a wicked glint in his eye. I had forgotten about the night he came to my room to talk to me about his breakup with Uhura. Apparently my funny pajamas made a lasting impression on him.

I changed into a pair of plain blue pajamas and reluctantly climbed into his bed. After a few more minutes, he returned and stood by the side of the bed with his hands behind his back like a father putting his child to bed. "I will return in exactly two hours to awaken and query you as instructed."

"I will probably be awake." I mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and I explained. "I know this is illogical to you, but I have a hard time sleeping in other people's beds. It has nothing to do with you per se, it just feels like I am invading your personal space."

He continued to look at me with his dark eyes, but they weren't as hard as they usually were. "That is indeed illogical. However, not uncommon to your species. My roommate at the Academy often had difficulty sleeping, but he found he could when I practiced my lute. Humans tend to find the tone of a Vulcan lute to be soothing. Shall I play for you?"

A warm smile spread across my face at his generous offer. "Please." I whispered in anticipation. I was finding that members of the crew had many hidden talents today. He removed a highly stylized instrument from under the bed that was a little larger than a violin and sat in his desk chair to prepare to play. The first notes he drew from the lute were almost ethereal as they slowly drifted and filled the room with a sweet, yet somber sound. I was immediately entranced by the melodic notes that flowed from his fingers with such apparent ease it seemed effortless.

I had always been in love with music, it moved my soul in a way nothing else ever could. For me, music was not heard but felt. The tune he played evoked a bittersweet sadness that spoke of great loss and mourning but yet was hopeful for a better future and it left me breathless and aching. I closed my eyes and became absorbed in the soft tide of complex melodies that swirled around me until the last note faded away. I slowly opened my eyes and breathed, "That was beautiful, Spock."

He graciously accepted the compliment with a small nod and asked, "Shall I play more?"

"Yes!" I smiled lazily. He obliged and I listened until my mind drifted off into a peaceful sleep carried by a gentle flow of harmony.


	8. Chapter 8 Caretakers

**Chapter 8- Caretakers**

With the unfailing accuracy of a strontium atomic clock, I was awakened every two hours and asked questions MENSA members would find difficult. I wasn't sure if I should have been honored that he thought me so brilliant or if he was simply asking questions that _he_ knew the answers to. What I was sure of was that I felt a lot of pressure to give the correct answer in a short amount of time or else be drug back down to sickbay.

Spock: "What is the atomic weight of niobium?"

Me: "I think you made that up, but I didn't take chemistry. Some Russian guy invented the periodic table, though."

Spock: "Did Mr. Chekov tell you that?"

Me: "Probably."

Spock: "If it were two hours later, it would be half as long until midnight as it would be if it were an hour later. What time is it now?"

Me: "Computer, what time is it?"

Computer: "It is currently 00:47."

Me: "That's what time it is."

Spock: "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"

Me: "42."

Spock: "I do not understand."

Me: "It is the answer to life, the universe, and everything according to Douglas Adams. But if you don't get it that makes two of us."

And so it was for exactly 24 hours. At the end of it all I was more exhausted than when I started between the fitful catnaps and impossible questions so I fell into a deep sleep with 30% more winks than I was previously allotted. Spock woke me up 6 hours later and asked me to recite something, so I mumbled a line from 'Hamlet'. "To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come."

"The playwright William Shakespeare, Doctor?" he asked with a small lilt. "If I recall, the protagonist is contemplating suicide in the scene to which you refer."

"The poet that commands my heart." I sighed. "But really, I just want to sleep and not the metaphorical kind."

The second time I woke when the bed shifted slightly with the weight of a body. Spock never sat on the bed. I felt a small shake on my shoulder and I slowly opened my eyes and blinked until McCoy came into focus. I frowned and asked, "Why are you out of bed? You'd better not be working."

He smiled faintly and replied, "No, I'm not working. I'm bored and Jim is about to drive me up a wall with his constant hovering. Jesus, you would think he was my mother or something."

I chuckled imagining Jim leaning over McCoy watching him sleep with a suspicious eye. Who knew he would be so vigilant? "What kinds of questions did you get?"

He gave a small laugh and admitted, "I don't remember all of them, but he asked me the dumbest shit like can a dog look up and why did the chicken cross the road? When I reminded him it was a joke that he was supposed to have the answer to, he accused me of cheating and threatened to take me back. Finally I told him if he woke me up one more time with a stupid question I would punch him in the nuts. After that it went pretty well." We both shared a laugh and he countered, "How about you? If Jim is a mother hen, Spock is like a pit bull. Did he give you the Maru or some equally infuriatingly impossible conundrum?"

I scoffed. "The Maru would have been a cakewalk. I think he gave me questions from the Vulcan Science Academy entrance exam, but he has been nothing short of faithful in executing his duties."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." McCoy smiled. "That is why I didn't object to your discharge. I knew he would take care of you. He aggravates the hell out of me most times, but damn it if he isn't the most reliable person on the ship."

We lapsed into an easy silence until I glanced back at him and asked, "Are the Klingons still here?"

"Judging by the stench I would say yes, but that nasty smell is probably soaked into the carpet and walls by now. We will have to scrub the ship from top to bottom to get rid of it. In fact, after we drop them off we are heading to one of the Federation's starbases just inside the neutral zone to do just that. They have a crew of hazmat engineers on standby the minute we pull in. Besides, we have to restock medical supplies and the crew needs at least a little break after what they have put up with over the last week. They can run around and blow off steam planetside while the engineers decontaminate the ship."

"Planet?" I asked in amazement. "I thought starbases were satellites."

"Not all." He clarified. "Some of the nicer ones are on planets. And this particular one is almost like a resort, it is sunny and warm with beaches. There is a satellite base closer, but I told Jim they wouldn't have enough supplies for sickbay." He said with a sly smile. "You have to work in shore leave when you can get it."

I smiled at his deviousness. "Ulterior motive or not, I am sure the crew will thank you."

He lowered his eyes and shook his head slowly. "They won't know it was my idea. I will let Jim take credit for that. I don't need thanks, I'm no glory hound. Even you would agree that the important thing is the psychological well being of the crew and this fits the bill."

_Why are you so afraid to let people know how caring and thoughtful you really are? What are you hiding?_

"Anyway," he sighed, "I should leave you alone. You look sleepy. Maybe I can come back later and we can get something to eat. We still have to maintain sufficient nutrient levels, because we know how that story goes, right?" He gently taunted. I chuckled and shook my head. He never let an opportunity for a jab pass him by. He smiled softly and stood up. "Get some sleep."

He turned to see Spock standing in the doorway. Neither of us knew how long he had been there, but he seemed to feel like an intruder in his own room. "I did not intend to disturb you." He stated stiffly. "Six hours have passed so I had returned to awaken her according to schedule."

McCoy's voice grew darker and it was tinged with a slight hint of embarrassment. "Yeah, I got it, Spock. She's not dead."

"Doctor, perhaps you should rest as well in compliance with your discharge orders." He observed. I knew he didn't mean it in a backhanded kind of way, he was expressing concern as much as he was able. I also knew McCoy wouldn't see it that way.

McCoy paused inches from the half-Vulcan and gave him a weary look. "Thanks for the advice, _Dr_. Spock." He growled.

"Doctor, I do not profess to be a physician, but…" Spock tried to explain before McCoy cut him off.

"Can it, hobgoblin." He replied waving him off he walked away.

Spock watched after him with a resigned sense of sadness. I wondered if he ever grew tired of being misunderstood. I also wondered if he was thinking of how he could have phrased his words more casually so he wouldn't fail yet again to make even the smallest of connections with the doctor. Or anyone. He seemed so isolated from the others and I found it disheartening especially since he allowed me to see a small part of him that had so much more to offer than his analytical prowess. People largely interacted with him as they would a computer, but he was so much more than that and it seemed as though Jim, Uhura and I were the only ones that had put in enough time and effort to see that and it really was a shame for all involved.

He really did try insomuch as he knew how to reach out to others, but each time he had been met with disappointment and I hoped that he wouldn't become discouraged because he was truly….well, fascinating. The problem was he spoke in a language of subtleties that were often too minute for most to detect. Humans were used to larger shifts in tone or expression to be detectable and the magnitude required was far too theatrical for him. At least he seemed more content with being the writer rather than the actor, he would leave center stage for Jim in favor of being the architect of plans and schemes.

He finally turned to me and asked, "How is your condition, Doctor? Has it improved?"

I smiled at him and thought that although his wording sometimes required decoding, it was often worth it. "I am feeling better, thanks for asking."

He nodded and continued, "Have you experienced the need to regurgitate or been having visual anomalies?"

"No," I laughed, "I know head injuries in and out, Spock. I would easily recognize the severe symptoms and I certainly would have told you." He nodded again in approval.

"You may be pleased to know that the Klingons will be disembarking in 7 hours and 11 minutes." He informed me. "At the conclusion of your next sleep cycle if you feel well enough to attend, the crew will assemble to see them off. No doubt the mood will be excessively festive."

"Will you be there?" I asked.

"As the 2nd in command, protocol requires it. However, perhaps none so much as I will be glad to see them depart. Due to the Captain's sensitive gag reflex, I have been largely the one to escort the Klingon delegation about the ship. Vulcans may be superior to humans in most every aspect, but we are not entirely superhuman in ability or tolerance. In fact, as inappropriate as it may sound, I am thankful for your circumstances. Not because I wish you any harm, but the schedule of your care regimen does happily relieve me of my duties on a regular basis." His eyes glimmered with playfulness.

I laughed. "Well, you can thank McCoy for pissing the Klingon off in the first place. If he knew when to keep his mouth shut we wouldn't be in this situation."

He placed his hands behind his back and replied, "I have not known a time when the doctor has ever practiced restraint when it comes to verbal assault, and I think it unlikely to change no matter how many negative responses his approach garners. If promotions were granted on verbal warfare, the doctor would have attained the rank of Admiral by now."

"What's above an Admiral?" I chuckled.

"Nothing, although Starfleet may have to create a special designation befitting his gift for sarcasm and theatrics." He mused with a small twitch of his mouth. "However, facetious speculation is an illogical pursuit and I must not keep you from complying with your orders to rest. I will return in six hours. Be well, Doctor."

"Thanks, Spock." I called after him. "Thanks for everything you have done for me. Playing your lute, caring for me, watching over me with such dedication, I appreciate it."

He paused and glanced over his shoulder. The crown of his cheek and the tip of his ear blushed a light shade of green and the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile- an actual smile rather than the small tug of a tiny smirk and my heart froze in wonder. It was like glimpsing the face of God, a great unknown was revealed and I was filled with a surge of happiness. He said nothing as he left, perhaps knowing that he had already said all he could with his unexpected gesture.

I was no longer tired, but filled with a buzzing energy that came with making a huge leap. Sleep suddenly felt like a waste of precious time, so I got up and showered. It felt good to be back in uniform although I did feel a little weak and groggy. I was looking forward to holding my nose and waving goodbye to the Klingons as they departed as did so many others. I was looking forward to having dinner with McCoy. I was looking forward to seeing the starbase. I was looking forward to life in general thanks to Spock's small yet monumental smile.


	9. Chapter 9 Lost in Translation

**Chapter 9- Lost in Translation**

I stopped by Jim's quarters to get McCoy for an early dinner, but Jim answered the door looking a little disheveled and gave me a devilish grin. "I'm sorry, Collins, but Bones can't come out and play right now." He gave a small laugh and added. "It is his nappy time." He gestured to McCoy's prone form sprawled out on the floor as though he had just fallen in a heap where he stood.

"I see." I said slowly while looking at Jim suspiciously. He seemed perfectly fine not more than 30 minutes ago…

Jim took another look at his friend and chuckled. "Heh! I finally got ya', didn't I you sneaky bastard?" McCoy didn't even twitch. He turned back to me and explained, "He got a taste of his own medicine."

A smile slowly spread across my face as the implication set in. "You gave him a hypo shot? How did you manage that?"

He seemed rather pleased with himself. "Went down to sickbay and had one of the interns load one with a sedative. I told them he wasn't sleeping like he was supposed to and I wanted to help. I waited until he was in the bathroom and jumped him from behind. There isn't much room in there you know, so he had nowhere to go. Fought like a champ, though." He gave a complimentary nod to the unconscious doctor. "I had to stab him twice. He bucks like a bull that got shocked in the nuts."

I knelt by McCoy and gently turned is head toward me. At the base of his neck just behind his clavicle, a nasty purplish blue bruise was forming. "Where else did you stab him?" I asked laughing. He was going to absolutely go nuclear when he woke up. "Do you wanna see?" Jim asked raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe not." I admitted. I didn't like the innuendo in his voice.

"Somewhere around here." He answered demonstrating by drawing a circle in the area between the lower hip and groin area. I winced, that had to hurt like nothing else. "He wouldn't hold still!" He protested. "It wasn't like I aimed it there. Anyway, I consider it payback." He folded his arms and looked down at me while I straightened McCoy's tangled limbs and rolled him onto his back so he could be somewhat comfortable. "I wasn't lying, though. He hasn't slept much so I wanted him to get a few solid hours at least."

I looked him in the eye when I stood and noted the dark circles under them. He had to forego sleep himself to make sure he woke McCoy on schedule and he seemed incredibly weary and worried. I gave him a small pat on the shoulder before I removed a pillow and a blanket from his bed. "I am sure it was for the best." I consoled.

"He won't think so." Jim smirked while I covered McCoy with the blanket. "But I asked for something kinda light because he doesn't know it, but he is going down to the Starbase with me, Uhura, and Chekov for some ceremonial thing the Klingons have invited us to tonight."

I carefully lifted his head and placed the pillow under it. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I bet he will love that."

"Yeah, who doesn't love a good old fashioned Klingon shindig where you have to pretend to love swamp leaches and blood wine." He huffed. "I would just as soon give them the finger and get the hell on with shore leave, but we have to put on a good face with all the diplomacy bullshit. Which gives me an idea: why don't you tag along?"

I repositioned the blanket to cover his shoulders and suspiciously asked, "Why?"

"To experience new cultural practices. You will have to do a lot of that as the _official_ ship's counselor. And because you are good at keeping the peace if you know what I mean." He smiled.

I let my hand rest on McCoy's chest and felt it rise and fall with each breath. "You mean keep him from wanting to kill you." I corrected in a sad tone. "You know there will be hell to pay when he wakes up and you want me to try to spin this into a good thing so he won't be mad at you."

"Well, if that's the way you want to see it I won't object." He replied hopefully.

I sat on the floor next to McCoy in defeat. "When do we leave?"

McCoy slept peacefully, never once moving except for the darting of his eyes under the lids when he went into a REM cycle and dreamed of whatever surgeons with residual head trauma dream of. Thankfully, he woke on his own with an hour to spare before departure. Getting Jim off the hook for ambushing him was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the news about the Klingon festivities was harder than I thought it would be. True to his stages there was anger, much cursing, outright refusal and finally acquiescence. The amazing thing was that these all took place within a 10 minute time frame.

The cycle almost started again when I informed him I was also going, but I staved it off with Jim's logic that this was going to be part of my job anyway and the more experience I had going into officer's training the better off I would be. He couldn't argue with the reasoning, but he sure as hell didn't have to like it he reminded me on the way to the shuttle to meet the others.

Chekov nearly danced in place he was so excited to have been chosen to go. He certainly didn't have a fascination for Klingons, but it was kind of a big deal to be involved in a delegation to a non-Federation culture and for that he was grateful. Uhura quietly coached Jim on a phrase in Klingon that he was going to use and although it was a serious matter, he couldn't seem to take it seriously because McCoy kept glaring at him and she quickly became frustrated and washed her hands of the whole matter. McCoy and Jim sat next to each other on the shuttle and as they buckled up, Jim quipped, "Just like the ride to the Academy, 'eh Bones?"

McCoy triple checked his restraints and growled, "This time I will throw up on you. All it would take is a little jostle to my already scrambled brain and you will be wearing my lunch. Or if that doesn't do it the light refreshments of our hosts will. Either way, I will get you. Mark my words."

Jim looked away and mumbled, "Can't wait."

Once we landed, we were escorted into a large, dark chamber lit with torches. Throughout, a red tricyclic symbol was emblazoned and I took it to be the indication of their civilization. It reminded me of a medieval version of the Roman coliseum and we were the bait for the lions. Jim, Uhura, and McCoy stood nearest what looked like the Supreme Court bench filled with elderly Klingons who were covered in battle scars. Chekov and I stayed behind them and instinctually stood a little closer together than human custom for personal space would normally allow for.

We were greeted in the rough fashion I had come to expect by the apparent leader and bowed slightly when the others did in return. "Captain Kirk of the United Federation of Planets, you have returned our citizens to their rightful home and spared them a disgraceful death. For this honorable act we offer you a tea ceremony- shared among friends."

Uhura glanced at Jim while female Klingons served each of us a shot glass of a dark red liquid. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about the whole thing just seemed like drinking kool-aid at Jonestown. McCoy must have felt the same as he whispered, "I don't know about this, Jim."

We waited for the members of the court to obtain equal measures of the foul substance before we all raised our glasses and downed it. My eyes instantly watered and I fought the urge to bring it right back up because I knew it would reflect poorly on the others and it certainly wouldn't be any better the second time around. The liquid was kind of thick like cough syrup and it had a metallic taste that clung to my mouth and throat like a layer of paint. Chekov coughed politely, but he was struggling as well. The women came forward to collect our glasses and Uhura nudged Jim in the ribs.

He took a step forward and paused to clear his throat. "On behalf of the Federation and Starfleet, we accept your honor." He paused again to take a deep breath. "jIH 'oH muSHa'taH Daq lIj SoS." The language sounded strange from his lips and it was evident he struggled with the pronunciation.

Uhura shot him a horrified look and the elder Klingons reacted in anger. Chekov and I looked at each other in confusion. Whatever he said, it must not have come out right because before we knew it, we were being hauled off to a dungeon where we were thrown in cold, damp cells with rusted bars and old locks. I was placed with Uhura, Jim and Chekov shared a cell while McCoy was alone in his. When the door to the room slammed shut with a resounding ring, Uhura looked across the room at Jim through the bars. "Great going Captain!" she hissed. "If you would have listened to me back on the ship you might have got it right, but noooo you had to blow it off." I didn't recall ever seeing her angry like that.

Jim wrapped his hands around the grimy bars and replied in a casual tone, "I might have mispronounced a few syllables, but c'mon! It is a damn confusing language."

She stopped to raise her beautifully shaped eyebrow. "A few syllables? You were supposed to tell them that you were honored to have assisted the Klingon Empire. You told the Council you made love to their mothers!"

"Oh, real fucking smooth, Jim." McCoy groaned from next door. "Why didn't you just call them tribbles so they could execute us on the spot?" Chekov slid down the wall of his cell and hung his head.

"Can he just apologize?" I asked hopefully. "Surely they must know that he doesn't speak the language and the insult was accidental."

Uhura shook her head and her silky hair spilled over her shoulder. "Klingons see apologies as weak. The only honorable way out is a challenge. I could try to smooth this over if they will give me an audience, but I doubt they will."

Jim paced his cell for a few minutes until he seemed to notice Pavel still sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chin. "Not what you expected, 'eh kid?"

Pavel glanced up at him and his blue eyes were a little out of focus. "People make mistakes, Captain. I understand, I do not always get English vords right either."

"That's an understatement." McCoy scoffed.

Jim squatted by him and scrutinized him closely. "You feeling ok, kid? You look a little pale."

Pavel swallowed and answered, "I vill be fine, Sir. I just feel a little sick."

"Me too." I admitted. "Whatever that drink was, it was nasty."

"Fucking blood wine." Jim mused. "Humans normally don't drink it with Klingons, only on special occasions and for good reason."

Uhura picked up on my questioning expression and she explained, "It is like whiskey only stronger and for ceremonies they add blood." I scrunched up my nose and suddenly felt thoroughly contaminated. She looked down and added, "For a tea ceremony they also put in a mild poison."

There was a pause by everyone at her words. Finally McCoy exploded. "What?!" he yelled. "What kind of goddamn poison?"

"It varies by location, so I don't know." She admitted. He heaved a heavy sigh and suddenly everyone felt just a little sick.


	10. Chapter 10 That's What Friends are For

**A/N: I just wanted to apologize straight out the gate to any Russians or Klingons that may be reading this story. I used a translator for your respective languages and I am well aware that I most likely butchered them (probably much worse than Jim ever could). To add insult to injury, the Russian is in phonetic form rather than Cyrillic because I have no idea what a backwards R would sound like. Again, I am sorry and bear no ill will toward Russians or Klingons which are both a highly spirited and passionate bunch and could easily drink me under the table. Cheers!**

**Chapter 10- That's What Friends are For**

We all sat in silence in our dank cells, trying not to think of the poison that coursed through our veins with every heartbeat. What kind of people would thank you by trying to kill you? That seemed more like something a Romulan would do.

"Bonsey!" Jim called from his seat opposite Chekov. "How ya' doin' over there?" I gauged by the tone of his voice and the direction of his gaze that he couldn't actually see McCoy from his cell.

McCoy sighed and answered. "Just great, Jim. My lips are numb and I feel like my nerves are coated with napalm, but other than that I can't complain."

"I can cheer you up, Bones." He offered with a smile. He cleared his throat and began to sing an old, slow, mournful bluegrass song. "I am a man of constant sorrow, I've seen trouble all my days." His voice was off key and he tried his best to make himself sound like a hick. "For 6 long years I've been in trouble. For in this world I'm bound to ramble. I have no friends to help me now."

McCoy groaned. "Shut up, Jim. You sound like an old hound dog baying."

"Doesn't that make you feel more at home?" He asked. "Hound dogs and hillbillies?"

"Being from the south doesn't make me a hillbilly and I do not want this place to feel like home. Now hush up and let me die in peace" he growled.

"C'mon, Bones. If you don't like me, that's cool. Chekov, know anything that will cheer up the good doctor?" He pressed.

"Nyet. Yaas znaan pyeats znaan myear vaats" he mumbled into his hands that had been covering his face for quite some time. It was the first time I had heard him speak in his native language and despite Russian not being a romantic language, it was surprisingly soft on the ears.

"He said if he sings he will vomit." Uhura translated.

"Fine." Jim sighed. "What is that old shit you always listen to? Sinatra? Anyone know the Vegas lounge stuff?"

I smiled. "Fly me to the moon and let me sing among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars." I sang. "In other words, hold my hand. In other words, baby kiss me."

Jim's eyes lit up. "There ya go, Bones! Feel better now?"

"Much." He muttered after a pause.

We fell back into a silence until Chekov could no longer hold out. He ran to the far corner of his cell and retched until he had nothing left. Jim looked out the cell trying to keep from turning green himself. I remembered what Spock said about his having a sensitive gag reflex and it was very much reflected on his face. Uhura had been eerily silent the whole time. I sat next to her and asked, "How are you feeling?"

She looked at me in complete misery while Chekov went for an unproductive round 2. "I…I'm." She stammered as her eyes watered. I just knew what was coming, so I helped her to the corner of our cell and wrapped her long hair around my arm with enough slack that she could move her head and we waited. The wait wasn't long because Jim lost it which gave her the push she needed. I held her hair and gently rubbed her back while she coughed between bouts. Unlike Jim, that kind of thing never bothered me and although I felt sick it was more of a general malaise with patches of numbness and burning like McCoy described.

"And they put me way over here where I can't do a goddamn thing" he yelled over the symphony of misery. "Does anyone have a fever?"

I helped Uhura lay back and I held her hand to comfort her while I placed my hand on her forehead. She felt a little warm, but with what she was just engaged in it didn't seem abnormal. "No" I answered.

Jim checked Pavel who was now stretched out on the floor with his arms over his head in exhaustion. "No" he called in a weary voice without ever checking himself.

"I know this sucks, but it is the body's way of getting the shit out. I just hope no one gets dehydrated in the process." McCoy said darkly.

It seemed like several hours had passed before a Klingon guard returned with Spock in tow. Spock stood facing the door with his hands behind his back, passively observing the deplorable conditions we had been held in but always careful not to further insult our hosts. "Spock." Jim whispered wide eyed as though he thought he were hallucinating. I had to say he was the last person I expected to see as well.

Spock nodded stiffly. "Captain. I have come to retrieve you." As he said this, the guard began unlocking our cells. I helped Uhura up and together we all filed out through the winding dimly lit corridors flanked by angry looking Klingons while we passed. When we reached the shuttle, the elderly Klingons from the Council waited for us. Spock paused to face the leader and bowed ever so slightly. "QA TLHO" he mumbled and the old man returned the bow.

The shuttle ride back to the ship was quiet because everyone was either too exhausted to speak or wrapped up in their own thoughts about how something so innocuous could have gone so terribly wrong. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer. "Spock, how did you get us out?" I asked the man sitting across from me.

"Yeah." Jim sighed slumped against his restraints with his eyes barely open. No sleep and being poisoned will do that to a man even if he was James Kirk.

Spock sat stiff as a board and explained. "When I did not receive word from you after the allotted time for the end of the ceremony, I contacted the Council to inquire as to your delay. They informed me that you had deeply insulted and dishonored them for which the penalty was a duel to the death. I entreated the Council to allow me to negotiate. Initially they indicated they would allow me to fight in your stead since you had been inadvertently incapacitated, they had no idea the human constitution was so weak."

"Constitution my ass." McCoy mumbled. "They poisoned us, Spock! Are we just supposed to skip away holding hands? Goddamn savages."

"I did not say I concurred, Doctor. However, humans do have a lower tolerance for ingested materials than do other species. It is simply a fact." His tone was just a little smug because without him saying it, he counted Vulcans among them. "After tense negotiations I was able to secure a trade agreement with them."

"What did you give them?" Uhura inquired.

"They agreed to free you in exchange for me fighting a woman and some goods" he said quickly. "Unfortunately the deal divested you of your entire stock of Romulan Ale, Captain."

"Wait, wait…" McCoy laughed, "you fought a _woman_? Klingon or not, that is pretty damn funny and I would have paid to see that!"

"My ale" Jim mourned quietly. "All gone."

"I assure you, Doctor, it was no laughing matter" Spock replied shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "She was a well trained warrior and honored among her people."

McCoy squinted at him as he often did when he smelled a rat. "Why are you squirming like that? Did she get a few good shots in on you?"

Spock again shifted. "I failed to anticipate some of her offensive attacks" he admitted reluctantly. "I am not entirely familiar with the Klingon style of combat, however it appears to have few rules governing engagement other than to win. Once I realized that any move was permissible, I ended the match by simply giving her a nerve pinch."

"All gone." Jim sighed to McCoy.

"Oh get over it, Jim" he barked. "Would you rather be sitting back in that cell in a pool of puke? If they poison their dinner guests imagine what they do to prisoners."

"That was wery clever, Sir" Chekov complimented in a small, weak voice.

"For the moment" Spock conceded. "The Klingons believe her to be dead. When she awakens in a few hours she will have been dishonored but I plan on being well into the neutral zone by the time the error is discovered. Mr. Scott and Mr. Sulu have been instructed to proceed at warp the moment we dock."

"Good one, Spock. I didn't think you had it in ya' to be so devious." Jim smiled.

"I have spent sufficient time observing you, Captain" Spock answered with just a hint of superiority in his voice.

True to word, the moment the shuttle landed we were off to the races in a mad dash to the neutral zone. Blood tests revealed that no less than three different toxins were given to us in varying amounts, but none were considered fatal and the effects were easily reversed with a readily available antidote. We were released with the instructions to drink plenty of water and to report back in the morning if symptoms persisted. Spock had suffered some bruising to his midsection and a moderate sprain of the left knee, but despite his protestations he was placed on a 3 day medical which everyone knew he would comply with even if he disagreed because those were his orders.

I returned to my room, happy to have it back until I noted the condition it was left in. Whoever stayed there looked as though they had regular food fights and many fixtures in the bathroom were broken. All in all, still better than the cell I was in but only marginally. With a heavy sigh I returned to the lift and went to deck 3. As soon as I got off the lift, I met McCoy who was absolutely furious. "Fucking savages" he growled pushing past me to get the lift before it took off.

I approached Spock's door with an apologetic smile. "Hello," I said nervously in response to him looking down at me with his unreadable eyes, "my room is sort of uninhabitable and I was just wondering if you could stand a roommate until we get to the starbase."

He took a deep breath and replied, "Dr. McCoy's door was open when I returned from sickbay and it would seem Mr. Scott and Cadet Uhura's rooms were left in a similar condition. I believe he has also returned to the Captain's room for lodging so they may continue residing in his quarters. As it seems the sharing of quarters must continue even after the Klingons have departed, you may resume your stay until yours are again suitable."

"Spock, if I am imposing please say so. I promise I won't be offended. I can go somewhere else." I stated.

"I assure you, Doctor, I will not be as you might say 'put out' by your presence. It would be illogical for me not to share when you are in need of shelter as I could not imagine where else you might go." He was, in his own quiet way calling me out and I found it funny. The only other place I possibly could have gone was sickbay, but McCoy had already declared it off limits and I couldn't very well think I was an exception.

"Thanks, Spock." I smiled as I entered.

"Again, Doctor, I have done nothing deserving of recognition. It would seem the only…humane option."

I found it interesting he used more human phrasing rather than the usual Vulcan 'just the facts, M'am' logic that was his default setting. "How are you feeling?" I inquired noting the solved Rubik's cube on his desk. I picked it up and smiled realizing that he had actually hidden it from me during my stay. He watched me turn the cube in my hands with something approaching anxiety in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't mess it up again." I laughed. "_That_ would be inhumane."

He seemed relieved when I put it down unmolested. "I believe I will recover sufficiently."

"If you need any help, please don't hesitate to ask." I offered. "Allow me to return the favor."

He looked confused just as he did the first day I met him, unsure and caught off guard. "I do not require any kind of assistance."

"Really?" I asked looking pointedly at his knee that was currently not bearing any of his weight. "You are supposed to stay off your feet per orders. That means minimal walking, so you will need some assistance."

"I cannot ask you to be as a servant." He protested. "I will figure out other means of completing tasks."

"You didn't ask, I offered." I countered. "You helped me now I will help you. It is the only logical option." He lowered his head and gave a small smirk. I had finally beat him at his own game and it felt great.


	11. Chapter 11 Inquiring Minds Want to Know

**Chapter 11- Inquiring Minds Want to Know**

It was more than plain that Spock was not accustomed to being catered to. Despite being propped up by fluffy pillows and a cool glass of water at hand along with a PADD for him to read, he seemed very uncomfortable prompting me to ask, "What's wrong, Spock?"

He slowly put his PADD down and took a deep breath. "I have never been the recipient of such constant attention. I am unsure of how to properly respond."

I chuckled. "You respond by doing nothing. Haven't you ever been sick or hurt even as a child?"

"Certainly, as anyone would. However, Vulcan child rearing practices are distinctly different from human customs. We do not experience what you consider comforting gestures. When one is ill or injured, it is up to the individual to practice meditation to mitigate unpleasant sensations. We do not rely on others to improve our conditions."

"I do not want to make you feel uncomfortable and if you feel I am hovering a bit too much, I can back off and behave a little more like McCoy if it would make you feel better. But for humans, giving feels as good if not better than receiving."

"It would not and if what you say is so, I would think that makes Dr. McCoy an anomaly to the general rule." He answered. "He appears to derive more pleasure from causing pain rather than relieving it."

I couldn't help but laugh. "There are doctors and then there are surgeons. Doctors fall in to the same category as everyone else, but surgeons are different because they never see the patient when they are awake, so they don't really need a bedside manner. All they care about is fixing whatever problem they are working on in record time, so McCoy is quite normal for his profession. Even so, I think you would be surprised at exactly how much he does care about his patients if you knew him a little better."

He looked away and debated carefully before going on. "Doctor, may I ask a question of a personal nature?"

"Ok." I agreed cautiously. If it was too personal I just wouldn't answer it, but if anyone had tighter ethical restrictions than I it was him so I wasn't too concerned.

"How were you able to form an alliance with the doctor when he does not appear amenable to human relations aside from the Captain?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, it was a good question. "I am not sure." I admitted. "I think that it just took a lot of patient observation and it helped that we have similar backgrounds, so I can probably better understand what makes a day bad for him and why."

"I have observed his behavior as much as anyone, and as of yet I have remained unsuccessful in my attempts to engage him in conversation that does not result in him becoming angry or involve at least one insult." He seemed truly sad about this fact and I felt compelled to offer my opinion.

"McCoy is actually very easy to figure out because he is very direct and mostly transparent, but as with anyone, in order to get him you have to think like him." I offered. "In very crass terms it is no different than training an animal- you have to figure out what will motivate them to give you the response you want. What is it you want McCoy to do?"

He seemed incredibly uncomfortable with equating human behavior with teaching a dog to roll over, but I knew he would have difficulty with conceptualizing the task in terms of feelings and emotions. He would get all tripped up in trying to interject logic into emotion which usually couldn't be done and certainly not to his satisfaction. "I would like for him to have a civil conversation without insulting me." He reiterated.

"Ok. The next step is to figure out why he doesn't do that already. Why does he get angry?" I asked. I couldn't help but see a parallel between the way he taught me to fight and the way I was teaching him to think more like a psychologist. Both were forms of combat and required equal amounts of skill and stealth.

"I am uncertain why he becomes angry. I hypothesize that his dislike for me originates with the Captain's probation when he was discovered to have cheated on his Kobayashi Maru exam in which Dr. McCoy was a participant. He and I engaged in a heated exchange when I marooned him on Delta Vega for mutiny after Dr. McCoy had inappropriately stowed him on board despite his probation. And then he was present when I…" he paused and lowered his eyes and I could only assume he meant when he damn near choked him to death in front of the crew. "However contentious the relationship between the Captain and I, we have been able to maintain a professional alliance that Dr. McCoy cannot seem to emulate."

"There is no doubt that he is Jim's friend," I confirmed, "but how long ago has that been? 2 years? McCoy may be vengeful at times, but he does not hold grudges that long. It would make him mistrustful at best, but I know for a fact that he does trust you a great deal. Think about what I told you, what does he value most?"

He looked at me with a small twinkle in his eye that made me smile. "Aside from alcohol." I qualified. He looked away but it seemed that was not what he was getting at. "Think about what he does for a living…" I prompted.

"Efficiency and expediency." He droned.

"Exactly." I encouraged. "I am sure it is a function of how you learned English, but when you speak you have a tendency to dance around what you are actually trying to say and it takes some work to figure it out. Now think like he does. If he is talking to someone, he would want to get right to the point because pleasantries are a waste of precious time just as nonessential information would be a waste of time if he were evaluating a critical injury."

"So you suggest I modify my speech pattern to accommodate his inattention?" He clarified.

"Speak only in nouns and verbs." I smirked. "Keep it short and sweet and see if he reacts any differently to you. Keep in mind there are always things beyond your control. You may catch him at a time when he is under a lot of stress or he has not slept in days, those things tend to put him in a bad mood but it has nothing to do with you. The first few times you try it you will probably get the same reaction you do now because he won't be expecting it and the old pattern of behavior will still be the default setting, but be patient and it might change. Think of it as an experiment."

The cold rationalization of a scientific experiment seemed familiar enough to him. "May I place another inquiry?"

"Go ahead." I nodded thinking that was just the kind of thing he had to work on.

He lowered his head and quietly asked, "How is Nyota?"

I paused for a moment trying to figure out who he was referring to until it dawned on me he was asking about Uhura. I remembered seeing her first name when I put her psych eval notes in the computer, but no one I knew called her that. "She had a pretty rough time in the cell as you no doubt saw, but she is strong, she will be fine. Otherwise," I ventured thinking he was actually inquiring about the breakup, "she is doing ok. I am sure she wonders the same of you." He gave a small nod and seemed mildly satisfied. "I think she will be ready when you are."

His lips drew into a tight line and I knew that meant he was not quite there yet, but soon he would have it together enough to speak with her about it. I didn't sense any animosity or a desire for revenge from him; only a quiet sadness for what was.

It was late, but Jim dropped by to inform us that between Sulu and Chekov a faster route to the starbase was worked out and Scotty was making some last minute 'adjustments' to the engines to get every last ounce of energy he could from them so we could go full tilt. All in all we should be at the base by mid morning for a well deserved 48 hour shore leave. Because the ship was being decontaminated, all crew members must leave the ship and he looked pointedly at Spock for emphasis. I wished him a goodnight and began packing a bag for myself and one for Spock at his direction.

I had never seen someone so reluctant to take a vacation as he, but if McCoy's description of it being a beach resort were correct, I could see why he would be reluctant. I giggled imagining him in swim trunks and flippers wearing a snorkel mask with a white triangle of zinc on his nose. But then again, Vulcans were probably immune to sunburn and were able to breathe underwater as well as everything else they could do better than humans. The very thought of it irritated me.

We got ready for bed and after he ordered the computer to shut off the lights I asked, "How did you know Shakespeare? I can't imagine it being a hot topic at a military school. Sun Tzu I get, but a playwright known for comedies, tragedies, and love sonnets?"

"Although the Academy did offer courses in classic literature, my mother loved to read his work and kept a volume of his writings in our home. It was hidden because as you might imagine, his poetic musings on the nature of love and revenge were taboo and seen as going against the teachings of Surak. Still, she would read his stories to me when I was a child and explain the strange dialect of English in which they were written. She so admired his words that she would become impassioned when she read them to me and I could not comprehend why as I now do." He replied dispassionately.

"And your father allowed such a display of emotion?" I asked in wonder.

"My father did not know." He answered with just a hint of humor. "My mother did not always do what was required to honor the Vulcan way of life. So, it was as a child I learned the stories of Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, and many of his love poems. It was not until I lived on Earth and observed human behavior that I was able to appreciate his contribution to literature and his commentary on the human condition. Even though it was written 670 years prior, his insights remained largely accurate."

"So she read Shakespeare to you and taught you to dance. She sounds like quite a free spirit." I complimented.

"She was." He quietly agreed. I didn't need to see his eyes to know he still mourned her loss, it was evident in the low tone of his voice even after all this time he still longed for her; his first and only connection to the human world until recently. There was a cavernous hole left behind by her sudden passing that all the Vulcan discipline and superficial working relationships in the world couldn't fill.

In a way, I knew how he felt. Although I considered myself lucky to have been given a second chance, I sometimes thought of my old ties and wondered what had become of them. There was a gnawing that couldn't be satiated no matter how many friends I made, a sense of closure that could never be attained. I rolled over on my side on the floor and closed my eyes, but all I could see were flashes of my old life. Rather than being distressing, I felt a slightly melancholic resignation in knowing that I would never have the answers I sought. All I could do was hope that they had long and happy lives because in reality they never knew what became of me either and they could not have known what an extraordinary I life I now had.


	12. Chapter 12 Beach Bums and Bedfellows

**Chapter 12- Beach Bums and Bedfellows**

We arrived at the starbase at 0917 mostly due to Scotty's all out engineering skills that sapped every filament of the warp core engine and almost burned it to a crisp by the melting wire smell of the engineer's uniforms. That, of course, would take more time to repair. I carried Spock's bag as well as mine and together we slowly made our way to the shuttle bay to await our turn to the surface. Chekov was already in civilian beach clothing and shivering because the dock was cold, but it didn't wipe the smile off his face. Sulu was also out of uniform, but at least he had the sense to wear a long sleeved shirt and pants.

I had lost almost four days on my studies thanks to the Klingons and I leaned against a wall scrolling through a file on testing procedures while I waited for my number to be called to board. "What's this?" McCoy sneered casually strolling in my direction. "Tell me you aren't working."

"Not working. Studying. I don't think PADDs have self esteem issues or get depressed." I smiled.

He scowled and jerked it out of my hands before hurling it like a Frisbee toward the far bay wall. "Heads up!" Sulu yelled as he watched it arc through the air. McCoy turned just in time to see Jim duck to avoid the projectile as it bounced off the wall with a resounding clatter. Far from being angry, Jim wore an amused look on his face. He was minutes from freedom and nothing was going to spoil his day.

McCoy, on the other hand, was on high alert because the minute Jim stepped off the ship all bets were off. To him it was like setting a Labrador puppy loose in a petting zoo; there was no limit to the amount of trouble he could get into and he had his trusty medical travel bag slung over his shoulder at the ready just in case. I was still stunned that he threw my PADD away, but Scotty thought it was quite funny. "Lose somethin' lass?" he yelled with a smile.

"She doesn't know the rules!" Uhura joined shaking her head.

"No working on mandatory shore leave. Violators will be forced to buy rounds!" They all yelled in unison laughing the whole time. Even Spock mouthed the words as though he had heard it a million times.

"I just did you a favor." McCoy smirked. "You'd be working for free for two weeks to pay off that tab. Ask Spock. How long did it take you?"

"Doctor, I did…" He began before I shot him a warning look. "13 days, 7 hours 7 minutes." He answered simply. I smiled at him while McCoy just stood there assuming the conversation was over without feeling the need to raise his voice or hurl insults.

Jim made his way over to our merry little group and asked in a chipper tone, "So, guys have any plans once you get planet side?"

McCoy didn't bat an eye. "I am going to set up my communicator to follow the tracking device I implanted in your neck last night. I will be damned if I am going to spend this shore leave chasing you around all over the planet fixing this and reassembling that."

Jim's blue eyes went wide with terror as he rubbed his neck. "Bones, you didn't…" McCoy arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Damn it! See if I give you a place to stay again. Next time you can sleep in the hall!" He huffed as he stalked off.

"Doctor, surely you didn't place a device in his skin without his knowledge." Spock stated dubiously.

"Nah." McCoy smiled folding his arms in a self satisfied fashion. "But maybe the paranoia will be enough to keep him out of trouble for once."

Someone had inflated a beach ball and it bounced back and forth across the dock on a sea of hands while we waited. The mood was definitely light and there were smiles all around. The shuttle finally arrived and my number was called along with Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. I assumed as the ship's commanding officers, Jim, McCoy, Spock, and Scotty would be the last to leave. I hoped one of them would have the good sense to help Spock and I left his bag by his feet.

I buckled up by a window and watched in fascination as I always did on the rare occasions I left the ship. To see such a massive white hull floating in space was a wondrous feat of engineering and truly a sight to behold. Sulu turned to see what I was looking at and smiled. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes." I whispered. "And to think that you fly it!"

"I can't believe it myself sometimes." He said with a mix of awe and glee.

Reentry was a little rough and I had to close my eyes and grip my knees to keep from screaming. Pavel reached over and quietly placed his hand on my arm until we touched down. He no doubt remembered the trip back to San Francisco when McCoy and I had to drug ourselves to get through it since neither of us liked flying. I was getting better at it, but sometimes the shaking was more than I could take. I gave him a grateful smile, but he pretended it was no big deal in his usual demure style. I waited for my bag and then stood in line for my room assignment from the flag officer that ran the base. It seemed the whole thing was a hurry up and wait affair, but I supposed I should just get used to it if that was the nature of Starfleet.

I looked around as I waited and smiled when I saw a separate red cargo shuttle not far from where we landed marked "Hazmat." Individuals in what looked like NASA spacesuits loaded coils of tubing and supplies into the vessel in preparation to give the Enterprise a bath. A nice warm breeze spilled through the crowd, giving us some relief from the hot temperature. The sand was a soft seashell pink and the sky was a light lavender with two suns. I could hear the rushing of moving water not far off and I was once again happy to be in the presence of nature.

The rooms were wonderfully unexpected. I was anticipating sterile filing cabinets like the dorms at the Academy, but here they were actual bungalows with windows you could open and nice, white bed linens. And the best part? No one had to share! The bungalows were laid out in neat rows like suburbs all the way up into the hills with enough space to make small streets. I looked around and realized that this part of the base sat in a cove between two large mountains. It was simply beautiful. It was just too bad we would only be here for two days.

I just got settled in when I heard a knock at the door. An actual fist on wood! No chimes! The door opened with a satisfying creak and I saw Uhura standing under the small straw awning stifling a chuckle as she pointed to the door frame. I looked outside and frowned when I noticed the name plate. "Dr. M. Collins-McCoy." I somehow missed that on the way in. "Come on, Mrs. Dr. McCoy, we are heading down to the beach to play volleyball and swim. Not a minute to spare!" She teased. I quickly changed, grabbed a towel, and was on the way.

I spent the day playing hard. Jim stalked the beach shirtless hitting on girls between and often during volleyball games. It was no wonder my team lost. Spock was stuck officiating the games because he couldn't play but had a hard time of it since he had never watched or heard of the game before, so we let him make his own rules as we went. Not that it mattered, Chekov spent more time face down in the sand after trying and failing to spike on Uhura at least 20 times than we actually played. After every attempt, Sulu would help him up laughing and shaking his head.

Most of the afternoon was spent in the water in some capacity while Spock swung lazily in a hammock reading a PADD that he swore contained only leisure material. Sulu, Jim, and I tried parasailing much to McCoy's dismay. He went on about how it was all a deathtrap and catastrophe waiting to happen. We didn't tell him we snuck off in the late afternoon to cliff dive. I had never done it before, but I was something of a daredevil on Earth: skydiving, whitewater rafting, bungee jumping. I loved the rush and thrill of being so near death, nothing made me feel so alive. As we sat on the cliffs watching the suns set over the ocean, I listened to them excitedly tell me about the time they dove from a shuttle onto an oil drill placed by Nero. I envied them.

Once the suns went down, torches were lit on the beach and the bar opened. We danced barefoot in the sand drinks in hand until the wee hours of the morning when in a buzzed moment of disinhibition McCoy picked me up and body slammed me into the water laughing like a maniac. I reached up and grabbed his wrist to drag him in with me and he fell with a loud splash. The water tasted salty just like the oceans on Earth and we smiled and bobbed in the cool water for one tense and magical moment until Scotty and Jim grabbed Chekov and swung him by his limbs to toss him in as well. Jim tried to catch Scotty off guard to push him in, but both men ended up in the drink splashing and cursing.

Spock quietly built a bonfire on the beach because the night air was cool and doubly so if one was also soaking wet. He took a seat on a large log of driftwood and tended his creation until it was a roaring inferno which we all gathered around. The heat felt delicious on my wet skin that was sporting goose bumps. There is a primal comfort that fire gives beyond it's heat; it is the colored flames, the way they dance and the smoldering smell of crackling wood that makes one feel at peace. McCoy took a seat next to me a little closer than I thought he dare given the circumstances. "To the Klingons!" Jim yelled raising his bottle of beer. "Without the smelly bastards we wouldn't be here right now. Thanks, you ugly fuckers!" He yelled at the sky.

Chekov looked up at the stars and interrupted, "Um, Captain, the Klingons are that vay." He pointed in the opposite direction that Jim was.

Jim swirled in the direction Pavel had indicated and yelled, "Yeah!" Uhura snuggled closer to Scotty and laughed. We sat there chatting and laughing until the fire had burned itself out to a pile of glowing embers.

I didn't recall a time I was ever so tired. I dragged myself off to my little beach cottage, being sure to check the ridiculous name plate to ensure I was in the right location and rinsed the saltwater out of my hair before falling into bed. I woke up an hour later sweating profusely. I thought perhaps I just had a sunburn, but I also felt dizzy and sick and my head was killing me. Sunburns didn't do that. I tried to keep my eyes open long enough to look at the map of the camp to locate the infirmary, but it seemed an impossibly long distance away.

I stumbled outside in my pajamas and thankfully came across a Starfleet security red shirt that worked at the starbase. "Mam!" I moaned holding my head and stretching a hand out to her. "I am looking for Dr. L. McCoy's room." She came closer and looked at the nameplate by my door curiously. "I know." I said exasperated. "We are kind of on the outs right now, but I have to find him." I didn't feel real good about lying to her, but then again I didn't feel good at all.

She led me to his cabin which was a few streets over from mine and I thanked her as I knocked on the door and leaned on the frame. "C'mon, McCoy." I whimpered in misery. "Please answer your door." I knocked weakly again and it flew open. I opened one eye enough to see him squinting at me, dressed in a white t-shirt and lightweight pajama bottoms with his hair in a glorious mess. I might have thought him sexy if I could properly see him. "Hi." I whispered stupidly.

He squinted even more and grabbed me by the arm to lead me in. "Sit down." He commanded in a gravely voice while he rubbed his face to wake up. The covers had been hastily thrown aside and the bed was still warm, I felt bad for waking him. He retrieved his travel bag and dug through it. "Well are you going to tell me what the devil is wrong with you or are you going to make me guess?" He asked dropping an assortment of instruments next to me on the bed.

"I feel sick." I replied weakly. I knew I was giving insane answers, but for some reason I couldn't stop them from coming out of my mouth.

"Enlightening." He sighed putting his hands on his hips. He stared at me a minute longer and reached over to the table and turned on a lamp. Thankfully the light wasn't that bright, but it still hurt my head. "I can't work in the dark, darlin'." He drawled running one of his scanners over me. He studied the screen and placed his hand on my forehead. "You are burning up." He announced. "103 fever with a migraine. That must be the 3rd circle of Hell." He mused. "Looks like you picked up a bug somewhere. Come on, we have to get you to the infirmary."

"No," I whined, "too many bright lights." I could imagine the halls lit up by halogen lights burning out my retinas.

He sighed and glowered, "Fine. I will go get something to get your fever to break before your brain cooks in your skull. Stay here, I will be back as soon as I can." He paused before opening the door. "You gonna be alright?" He asked in a low tone. I nodded yes and regretted it.

As soon as he shut the door, I fell back in his bed not caring that it did not belong to me. His windows were open, letting in a beautiful breeze and I lay there listening to the sound of water roll onto the pink beach. It was so relaxing I dozed off until he returned. "Collins," He called softly sitting on the bed, "Collins, wake up. Here, drink this." He instructed handing me a jar the size of a shot glass filled with clear liquid. "Now it will be bitter, so drink it down fast." He warned. I threw it back like I would a shot of Scotty's special brew with the goal of it never touching my taste buds, but my plan failed. It burned and tasted like a raw lemon rind. I made an awful face and McCoy clamped his hand down over my mouth to keep me from reversing the flow. "Breathe. Deep breaths." He coached. I sucked in as much air as I could until it passed. "Got it?" He asked hopefully. I nodded and he slowly removed his hand.

"What the hell was that, Quinine?" I choked.

"Yes, actually." He answered surprised. He looked at his hands and mumbled. "If you can't make it to the infirmary, I want you to stay here tonight so I can keep an eye on you. If that fever gets any worse we will both be in trouble."

"Ok." I agreed breezily. I was so close to having my own room back, but then again I was almost used to having a roommate now. He looked as though he expected more of a fight than I gave him, but started to remove a pillow from the bed to sleep on the limited amount of floor that wasn't taken up by furniture. "You can stay up here." I said in a small voice grabbing his wrist.

He looked at me half suspicious and half confused. "Are you sure?" He checked.

"It's big enough for both of us. You shouldn't sleep on the floor." I muttered. My brain was obviously not in control of what my mouth said and I was a little embarrassed as to what he might think, but a small part of me wanted the presence of another person nearby.

I scooted over to the spot next to the wall and he slowly and cautiously climbed into his side as though he expected his weight to make the whole thing go crashing down. After he was reasonably settled he grumbled, "I warn you that I have been told I am a blanket hog."

I gave a small laugh and a smile. "Me too."

"Well then, a worthy opponent for tug-o-war. May the best hog win." He smiled stretching over to turn the lamp off.

"Good night, McCoy." I sighed.

"Good night, Collins-McCoy." He replied. Damn Jim and his rigged Starfleet paperwork. I could see him smiling by the light of the moon and I gave him a playfully light punch on the arm, prompting him to chuckle.


	13. Chapter 13 Comfort

**Chapter 13- Comfort **

The halls were unusually dim, I wondered if there was a power failure. There was a creepy, uneasy feeling in the air that usually didn't exist on the Enterprise. It was so real, the fear so palpable I thought I was going to die. Literally. I shook my head and told myself I was being illogical. Whatever problem there was, no doubt Jim knew about it and Scotty was working quickly to get it fixed. No need to worry, I always felt safe here. Still, I found myself half crouching while I walked and staying near the walls. When I turned a corner, I saw the wall smeared with blood. Was I on deck 5? If so, sickbay wasn't where it was supposed to be and that was odd.

A few more steps and I saw what looked like a rubber Halloween mask laying on the floor. I picked it up and thought it strange that it looked like Sulu. Who would want to dress up as him aside from maybe Chekov? I let it drop and continued down the hall and around another corner where I found a female security officer. I straightened and asked her if she knew what was going on, but she didn't respond. She seemed to be focused on something straight ahead.

I turned to see Spock with a grim look on his face. His eyes were unusually dark, in fact they were completely black. I opened my mouth to say something to him, but he acted as if she were the only one he could see. Slowly and deliberately he reached forward and curled his fingers under the woman's skin just under her hairline. In one deft move, he jerked down and peeled her entire face off, leaving nothing but her muscles and tendons exposed as she looked at me and screamed.

All of a sudden I was aware that I couldn't breathe. I thrashed and willed my limbs to move enough to support my weight and I sat up gasping for air and unable to scream although I desperately wanted to. My entire body was shaking and I couldn't get the image of that woman's face out of my head. It was only when McCoy sat up next to me in bed that I realized it was just a dream. He lightly placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered in hushed tones, "It's ok, it's over now, darlin'. It was just a dream. Shhh, it's ok now." He gently ran his hand across my shaking shoulders and looked intently at me. "Do you wanna tell me about it?"

My throat was so dry, my voice cracked when I spoke. "Spock. He was killing people."

He frowned. "Spock was?"

"Yeah." I swallowed. My breaths were finally becoming slower and I could feel my heart not pounding quite as hard. "His eyes were completely black and he was ripping people's faces off." I saw him raise his eyebrows and I read his expression by the dim light to say 'yeah, that would be pretty damn scary.'

"Well, it was just a dream. I think we both know that Spock wouldn't do that. It was probably caused by your fever." He said soothingly letting his hand drop in order to retrieve his scanner. "Temperature is down to 100.2, but your heart is still racing like you ran a marathon." He flipped the device shut and tossed it back on the dresser. "You should try to get some more sleep."

"I don't want to." I stated wide eyed. The last thing I wanted to do was to close my eyes and see what was left of that woman's face screaming at me again.

"Are you still scared?" He asked in a slightly guilty tone as though it was his fault I couldn't drop right back off.

"Yes." I admitted. "I know it is silly."

"Nah. Come here." He motioned for me to lay down close to him and I couldn't think of anything I wanted more in that moment.

"Are you sure? I don't want…." I began.

He gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to his chest, snaking his arm around my back. "We have an agreement, right? I take care of you and you take care of me. Don't think anything more about it. Just relax and try to get some sleep." I settled into his shoulder and listened to his heart gently thump a steady rhythm and the light 'swoosh' sound of air as it filled his lungs with every breath. The heat from his body melted the tension and fear I was frozen with. I told myself it was ok, just this once. I might never admit it to him, but I was horribly frightened by that dream and it was comforting to be so close to him. But just this once, I promised myself. After this we will go back to the status quo.

When I woke up again, he was already awake but staring at the ceiling for lack of freedom of movement because at some point I had slung my leg over his and was now practically laying on him. "Hey," he greeted me when I stirred, "feeling better?"

Once I realized my predicament, I blushed. "I'm so sorry, McCoy. I shouldn't have…"

"Not another word, you hear?" He placed the back of his hand to my forehead and said, "Feels like your fever has gone down."

I wiped at my eyes lazily. "I just feel wiped out."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you use all your energy to crank up the heat like a convection oven to kill whatever you picked up. I hate to do this, but I have to get up." He sighed.

"Why?" I asked petulantly. "I am comfortable."

He chuckled and replied, "To get water for you to drink before you get dehydrated and for other more personal reasons. But I will be back and you can get comfy again if you like." I allowed him to get up and he brought a glass of water. "Now I want that all gone by the time I get back." He instructed. It was an awfully big glass and I wondered if he planned on returning the next day. He was back in a flash and I hadn't even got through one quarter of it even though I tried. He took it and placed it on the table and I realized he was just kidding and I felt a little cheated. He stretched and pulled up a chair to sit by the bed. "I hope you don't mind, but I am getting to old to lay in one spot like that."

"Yeah, those couple extra years must be devastating." I mocked with a smile.

He slumped in his chair and smirked. In his pajamas and stylishly messy hair he looked like a GQ model and I looked away. I really shouldn't think of him that way. I lay there staring at the ceiling until I noted, "It's raining."

He casually looked out the window and said, "Yep. It has been for a few hours and it doesn't look like it is going to let up for awhile."

I sighed in contentment. "I love the sound of rain and thunderstorms."

"Boy, for a city girl you sure do love nature." He observed with a squint. His southern accent slipped out a bit thicker than usual and it sounded strange.

"I haven't always lived in the city." I protested. "I probably have more in common with you than you think. My family is also from the South, but they were hillbillies and not the more gentrified Rhett Butler southerners like yours I am guessing."

He scowled. "Rhett Butler? I haven't heard that one in awhile. So then you probably enjoyed Jim's concert in the cells."

"My family was from the South, _I_ was raised in the North. Don't get me wrong, I still love soup beans and cornbread as well as the next guy. When I used to visit, I loved to sit on the back porch of my relative's house in the Appalachian mountains and listen to the wildlife. If you got up early enough you could hear mountain lions, turkeys, wild pigs, hawks, and rarely you could hear bears. Early morning was wonderful because fog would hang low on the mountains like a blanket across the valleys. I used to go hiking and loved to sit by the rivers and just look around at all the beautiful things that nature had placed on the Earth. I kind of miss that."

"Me too." He agreed quietly in a somber tone. "My family did own a plantation style house funny enough outside of Atlanta, so I grew up with acres of fields, orchards, and streams. I could spend all day climbing trees, chasing bullfrogs and fishing. I wish I could go back, everything was so much simpler then." He paused to reflect on his memories. "What about you?"

"Go back?" I asked raising my eyebrows. "No."

He looked up at me and noted, "That was pretty emphatic. Why?"

I sighed and shook my head. "No, McCoy. You don't want to know. You don't like horror stories, remember?"

"I don't, but we all have to do things that we don't like from time to time." He said sitting forward in his chair and focusing his green eyes on me with laser precision. "If not me then who?"

"Nobody." I shrugged. "What's done is done and there is no need to rehash it. It's not important."

"Wow." He spat. "You would never let me get away with that bullshit if I tried. And people think I am a hypocrite." My eyes went wide. "That's right, I said it." He stated holding my gaze fiercely. "Why the double standard? What are you hiding?"

"You want to talk double standards, why is it you…"

"This isn't about me." He coolly retorted, "It's about you and your refusal to answer a point blank question. Now what happened that you want to forget your life so badly?"

I bit my lip in sheer frustration and anger. I didn't want to have this conversation ever with anyone. "Fine." I growled. "I will tell you only as much as you need to know as my doctor, but you also have to know what led up to that point."

"That is all I ask." He said softly, he features relaxing. "All I want is for you to trust me as much as you want me to trust you." Goddamn it, he had a point.


	14. Chapter 14 Coming Clean

**Chapter 14- Coming Clean**

I sighed and started. "You know that my family was poor, I have told you that. I wouldn't go back because I don't miss fighting to just survive. My father hated his life and chose to drink and take it out on my brother and I. We went to school covered in bruises on many occasions. I watched him stab my brother with a fork once."

McCoy covered his face and sighed. "Didn't your brother try to protect you? Where was your mother?"

"My mother worked her ass off at a factory making minimum wage, so I never really saw her. My brother was all I had, but he and I were very different. He was a happy go lucky kind of guy and I had always been quiet and smart, but stubborn. He tried to figure out how to please my father so he wouldn't get beat, but I didn't care. My attitude was go ahead and swing away until you are tired because it won't matter, it won't change me a bit. My brother was 5 years older than me, so he moved out at 17 leaving me there alone. I don't blame him, I would have too."

"Did it get worse?" He asked tensely.

"I lived with it for another 4 years. Then, when I was 16 I fought back for the first time. All along I just passively let him wail away, but I had enough. Of course I lost terribly, but I still felt like I won because it shook him up. He left me alone for about 6 months and then it started again, so I ran away. If I stayed I know I would have killed him in self defense."

He nodded slowly. It was a bitter admission, but he seemed to understand. "Where did you go?"

"The odd thing was I wanted to stick around the area to finish school. So I would go to class during the day and sleep on the street at night, but it was dangerous. At the time there were only two ways to make money: prostitution or sell drugs. There was no way I was going to turn tricks; I saw way too many women with scars from attacks by johns. So, I sold drugs to the most willing market: my classmates. I did enough business to rent a cheap room in a sleazy hotel, it was nasty but better than sleeping on the street."

He blinked his eyes slowly no doubt trying to imagine what that life was like. He couldn't have grasped the fear, guilt and loneliness of that world even if he tried. "And all this time your family never looked for you?"

"It was one less mouth to feed and my brother didn't know what was going on because he lived out of state working as a mechanic. I certainly wasn't going to tell him that I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. As often happens there comes a time when you start testing your own product when you realize what a hellhole your life has become. I sold just about everything, but you can learn a lot about an addict by their drug of choice. Mine was stimulants: cocaine, crystal meth, ecstasy. I would do others if it was all I had, but it wasn't my preference. It got to the point that I was high most of the time, but I was still able to get my school work done."

He hung his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. "That's why you don't like taking medications." He sighed. His voice was full of regret as though he should have known it all along or perhaps his mind reading ability had somehow failed him.

"Yeah, better safe than sorry." I replied. "It was all going pretty well until I got robbed by three guys who jumped me on the way home from school. I knew that when you play the game it entails the possibility of being arrested or robbed, but I didn't think it would happen to me. I was not your typical dealer, so I didn't think I would be targeted."

His head jerked up. "What happened?" He was as concerned as though it happened yesterday, not forever ago.

"I don't really know, I woke up in the hospital with a fractured cheekbone and some broken ribs. Of course the staff had to alert the police who found out I was living alone and on top of that, one of my buyers tipped them off so I was arrested for possession with the intent to distribute. I was made a ward of the state on my 17th birthday and held in a juvenile detention center until my court date. When I went to court, the judge had pity on me because I was a first time offender and I was still attending school. She sentenced me to rehab and the remainder of my time in a foster home with the stipulation that I report to a probation officer and take random drug tests."

"Did you manage to stay clean?" He asked quietly.

"Clean as in I didn't take drugs because there was no way in hell I was going to violate my sentence and be thrown into juvenile jail until I turned 21. But did I keep selling? Yes, until I was 19."

"Why did you stop?" He inquired.

I smiled and laughed. "It was the strangest thing. I got busted by a vice cop for selling $20 worth of meth to him and that should have been an automatic 5 year prison sentence. He remembered seeing me at my court appearance for my prior arrest when he was a bailiff. He asked if I finished school and I did, so he gave me my bag of meth back. He told me he would make a deal with me: if I enrolled in college courses at least half time within two weeks he would forget the whole thing. If not, he could find me pretty easily and I would be off to the big house and have a girlfriend named Butch." McCoy chuckled. "So I went back to my squalled little room I lived in that used to be an abandoned crack house. I looked around and asked myself if my life was any better than the one I left. I decided that I couldn't live like my family did nor did I want to end up beaten, raped, or murdered if I kept going the way I was. So, I signed up for some psych classes."

"What happened to the policeman?" He asked sitting up in his chair.

"Officer Mike." I smiled at his memory. "He checked in every once in awhile. He was the only one that came to my graduation. All of them, actually. Then he was killed in the line of duty by a crack head during a traffic stop." I sighed heavily at the waste. "It was hard for me not to be angry. I often wondered if that guy knew what he was doing when he killed him. He couldn't have known that Officer Mike was a good guy who helped me and who knows who else."

"Well, I would say that his death was tragic, but he left behind a hell of a legacy." McCoy smiled. "Sounds like he was a big part of who you are. You might have done all the work, but he had to give you a kick in the ass to get you moving in the right direction."

"Yeah, well. There you have it. Now you know the big secret." I mumbled. I just knew he would never look at me the same way again. How could he? Who wants to work and sit next to a former junkie?

He reached out and grabbed my arm with a firm grip. "Hey, I know that was tough for you to admit to. Believe me, it was tough to hear, but I am glad you trusted me enough to finally open up. I am just sorry you had to live like that."

"I'm not." I shrugged. "It is all part of who I am. I am not necessarily proud of what I did, but I learned a lot about self reliance, redemption, and recovery."

He nodded appreciatively. "I will have to be more careful to respect your wishes regarding meds in the future, but don't think that you have to suffer. There are non-addictive meds I can prescribe. Thanks for telling me so we can maybe work together on your health needs."

I paused and summoned up the courage to ask, "Please tell me the truth. Knowing what you know now, does that change anything for you?"

He squinted while he thought about it. "Yeah, it does." He finally answered with a decisive nod. "Now I can see where that strength and determination comes from. Now it makes sense how you have largely been able to adapt to what has happened to you both in terms of being slingshot into the future, being held by the Romulans and the Klingons, and the way you are able to read a situation and react so calmly. It also explains why you are so reluctant to let anyone get close to you and why your 'boundaries' are so damn important to you- they keep everyone out. What I still can't figure out is how then you can still do your job with such compassion when almost everyone you knew kicked you in the teeth. I sure as hell wouldn't be so forgiving."

"You asked about my childhood and that sucked. But as an adult, I began to see that life may not always be fair and I may have had to fight for everything I had, but in the end it made me a better, stronger, more resourceful person. Even if at times I didn't feel that I deserved to live the life I had because of my past, I still enjoyed it and I even found love for a time. My worldview was starting to change and I began to see the world in fluid rather than static terms. That is what I meant when I told you that you met me at a very strange time in my life." I smiled.

"As far as it changing the way I see you as a professional, no it doesn't." He winked. "We all have skeletons in the closet, no one is perfect and you shouldn't expect yourself to be either."

I gave a small nod and we lapsed into silence, listening to the rain wash away the dirt and grime of the outside world to make it clean again.


	15. Chapter 15 Rain Check

**A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to all who have followed so far. If you want a laugh, check out "****Friends: A Kirk and Bones fanvid" on Youtube. It is a great analysis on the relationship between the two. As always, I love hearing from you. Cheers!**

**Chapter 15- Rain Check **

I knew it was selfish indulgence, but I was so darn comfortable laying there and listening to the rain that I didn't leave. The rain continued at a downpour the entire day and I kept falling asleep, even when flashes of green lightning lit the sky. I remembered Earth's lightning to be white, blue, or sometimes even purple but never green. I watched it with fascination until I dozed off again despite the low, rolling rumbling of thunder. When I woke up between naps, sometimes McCoy was there and sometimes he was nowhere to be seen, but foot shaped puddles of water on the floor told me he had been in and out quiet as a cat. Only once did he purposely wake me to give me more of that awful Quinine 'just to be safe' since my temperature was just a bit above normal, but still too high for his liking.

It was approaching evening when I finally woke up feeling something like human again. I stretched luxuriously in his soft bed that now needed fresh linens in the worst way. I had been there for hours and hours, never moving and in turns sweating and freezing. The sheets were a tangled mess and smelled sour even to me. I slowly sat up and spotted the glass of water he had left on the table by the bed. I was so thirsty I drank it all down in one continuous gulp and wanted more. My lips were chapped and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but all in all a vast improvement from the night before. I went to the bathroom to get more water and returned to look at the disheveled bed. McCoy was gone again and I noted with a small sense of alarm so was his medical bag. Immediately I thought of Jim.

I found a spare set of sheets in the closet and I stripped the bed and remade it as well as I could. It was nothing approaching the tight military style in which McCoy made my bed when he passed out, but it would do. I felt as though I were coated in a film of grime and I wanted nothing more than to shower, so I took one last look at his room before heading out into the rain to my own cabin where all my clothes were. The streets were mostly empty, but I could hear voices as I passed in the warmly lit cabins of friends who had gathered to play cards or listen to music. A little rain wasn't going to ruin their fun.

I was startled by a familiar gruff voice shouting, "Hey! Where the hell do you think you are going?" I turned to see McCoy about a block away, feet sloshing in the mud as he jogged toward me with a scowl, his bag slung across his shoulder.

I waited for him to catch up and noted that he was soaked to the bone. "I am going to shower." I answered a little defensively. "All my clothes are at my place and I didn't see any replicators."

He blinked rainwater out of his eyes and muttered, "There aren't any. It is supposed to be relaxing, but I think it is an unnecessary pain in the ass. Anyway, you shouldn't be wandering around out here unless you want pneumonia as well."

He swiped his hand through his wet hair, slicking it back and I watched rivulets of water run down his worried face. It was very endearing. "I am feeling better now thanks to you." I crossed my arms and smirked. "You know, I probably at least owe you a dinner for saving the day yet again and ruining your shore leave."

His face softened and he looked down at the pool of mud he was standing in. "You didn't ruin anything. I usually work more on shore leaves than I do on the ship. At least on the ship they are all contained in a fairly small space with a limited number of things that can go wrong, but out here," He squinted and looked around at the mountains that surrounded us, "the possibilities are endless. No stone is left unturned, if there is any trouble to be found they will find it." He sighed and wiped his eyes. "I was just doing my job so you don't owe me anything, but I won't say no to non-replicated food."

"You look exhausted." I commented noting his pale complexion and dark eyes. "Are you sure you feel up to it? Maybe you should get some sleep."

"Who's the doctor here?" He asked with a smile.

I laughed and replied, "We both are, actually."

"Ah, right." He conceded. "A nap would feel good, but actual food sounds better. There is a nice restaurant on the other side of the camp, but I don't want to walk all the way over there and eat sopping wet. There is a smaller cantina just a few blocks away if you want to go there." He looked down at my pajamas which were now clinging to me and frowned. "It is casual, but I don't think you can go in dressed like that." He quickly looked around to see if anyone was getting a sneak peek and protectively put his arm around my shoulders to walk me to my cabin. "You should get some actual clothes on before some idiot gets the wrong idea."

"I told you I wasn't a hooker." I said distastefully.

He looked down at me in surprise. "I didn't mean it like that." He protested pulling me just a bit closer. "What I meant was these places are generally pretty safe, but let's face it: Starfleet is mostly young males who are far away from their wives and girlfriends for long periods of time. Add in alcohol and a dash of temptation and all of a sudden something like this can spell trouble."

I nodded as we trudged through the mud. Times may have changed, but even Starfleet was not as shiny and perfect as they would have you believe and he had a point. On the way we passed the same security officer that led me to McCoy's room the night before. She was off duty and with a young man, laughing as they ran through the rain. She spotted McCoy with his arm around my shoulder and she paused to smile. I returned the gesture thinking of how she assumed we had reconciled and again I felt bad for lying to her, but at least she thought it all ended well.

We ducked into my cabin after McCoy paused to snicker at the nameplate on the door. "Jim will be the death of me, I swear." He muttered. While I removed clean, dry clothes from my bag and headed to the shower, McCoy dumped his medical bag out on my desk to reorganize and inventory his supplies to keep busy while he waited. I took my time, washing away the film until I was squeaky clean and energized. I was in an unusually good mood and I hummed a cheery 80's tune while I wrung out my pajamas and hung them to dry. I emerged to find McCoy slumped awkwardly in a chair fast asleep. I debated if I should just let him sleep awhile longer, but he looked so uncomfortable positioned like a ragdoll that had been casually tossed. In the end, I decided to postpone our plans for another time and let him be. I carefully slid a window open near him to alleviate some of the ambient stuffiness and humidity before quietly shutting the door and making my way to a small convenience store I spotted on the way.

During my time aboard the Enterprise, I often pondered the new economy of the Federation. I knew a monetary scale existed and wages were earned, but I never saw money exchange hands nor paychecks handed out on Fridays. I wasn't actually sure how one would pay for purchases and with replicators on board there was no need. I browsed the aisles of exotic sounding bottles of alcohol such as Saurian brandy, personal care goods, and cheap looking souvenir trinkets where I found Chekov looking at a rack containing shot glasses and small spoons emblazoned with the starbase's logo or the familiar softly rounded triangle indicative of Starfleet.

"Shopping for your sister?" I asked sidling up next to him.

He jumped slightly and smiled. He had a bit of a sunburn from being outside all day on our arrival and the reddish hue clashed with his blonde hair and blue eyes. "Yes, I do not think she has anything from this base." He replied looking back to the rack and slowly turning it.

"Pavel," I began in a curious tone, "how do you pay for things?"

He looked at me confused and smirked. "You vill take your things to the register."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. But then what? How do you actually pay for it? Do you have money or a credit card? How do you know how much something costs, anyway?" I saw numbers below items, but no indication of monetary designation such as a dollar, euro or pound sign.

He pointed to a small sign below the shot glasses and answered, "This is the number of credits. Vhen you are done, you give the person your number."

"What number?" I asked exasperated.

"Yeah, forgot about that." Jim laughed from behind me. I turned to see him quickly move his hands behind his back, but he wasn't quick enough for me to see the box of condoms he held. He tried to maintain his cool as he sauntered a little closer. "I was looking over the registers before we came down and I noticed you have a shitload of unused credits. I meant to tell you about it, but well, I kinda got busy…" I raised my eyebrow.

_Looks like you are planning on getting even busier._

"Anyway, your number is 1701-705. Don't spend it all in one place." He advised quickly heading to the register as though he had somewhere to be in a hurry.

I looked at Pavel who was aimlessly turning the rack and suppressing a smile, he must have seen it too. He cleared his throat and chuckled, "It may help you to remember: 1701 is the ship's number and the rest is your assignment, deck 7, room 5."

"Room charges." I sighed with wide eyes. "Like a hotel." He shrugged although I knew he had no idea what I was talking about.

He finally settled on a small keychain and I wandered off to look at a small section at the back of the store that offered PADDs onto which you could load games, books, and movies. I cursed McCoy for making me leave mine back in the shuttle bay because it meant I had to buy a new one. I looked through the extensive catalog of available options and settled on a gift I thought would be appropriate to his tastes and smiled as I made my way back to the registers to give the clerk my newly assigned number. It was almost too easy and I wondered how they knew I wasn't using someone else's account since I was never asked for identification, not that I had any. I walked out of the store and also noted that I was not given a receipt. I wondered how I was supposed to return my item should it prove to be defective.

I returned to my room to find McCoy sprawled face down on my bed with one arm hanging down to the floor dead to the world. It seemed the allure of non-replicated food was not enough to overpower his biological need for sleep and I smiled feeling sorry for him. He spent so much of his time and energy looking after everyone but himself. I opened another window and covered him up before turning out the lights and leaving him to rest in my room while I went to his.

The rain had finally stopped, leaving an earthy smell in the air and a slightly cool breeze that ruffled my hair as I walked. I wryly wondered if I would ever sleep in my own bed again. I paused to look up and observe the stars that hung in the inky sky arranged in unfamiliar patterns. I was a little saddened not to see the usual constellations of the big dipper or the Pleiades. Not even my old friend Orion could be seen, even though I had a love-hate relationship with him because I thought him to be the most magnificent of them all, but he heralded the coming of winter- my least favorite season of the year. The moon was smaller and more yellowish than the Earth's, but it somehow shined brighter and cast a pale light on the ground.

Once more I was overcome with a sense of awe remembering how I used to look up at the sky as a child and wish to be far away from where I was, and that childish wish was granted beyond all expectation and reason. I now lived among the very stars I admired so long ago and it never ceased to amaze and humble me to know that all across the universe many varied races of sentient beings were looking deep into their skies and wishing the same.


	16. Chapter 16 Getting to Know You

**Chapter 16- Getting to Know You**

All good things must come to an end, and for most of the crew leaving our little taste of paradise was just too much. There were many long faces and forlorn looks out the shuttle windows at the fast retreating beaches, including myself. But as we neared the sparkly white, newly scrubbed exterior of the Enterprise, I was happy to again be home and thought it just a little strange that I considered something as small as a spaceship my world. I located my PADD that McCoy had launched across the shuttle bay resting on a crate sporting a crack by the scroll wheel. I sighed and took my broken device with me to my quarters.

The ship had an unusual oxygenated ozone smell that reminded me of a nice, freshly laundered cotton shirt. It really didn't matter what it smelled like, greasy fried chicken would have been preferable to the stench that permeated every crevice of the ship. The interior was scrubbed spic and span and it seemed like it had just come off the assembly line, giving it a sense of newness and invincibility. I tossed my bag on my bed and inspected my quartets as though it were the first time and found everything to be perfect. Finally, I had my own room back.

I was almost done unpacking when I got a page from McCoy directing me to the sickbay. I immediately dropped what I was doing and made my way to deck 5. His message was fairly vague but I wasn't sure if that was on purpose so as not to alarm me or if it was just his usual efficient style of communication. When I arrived, the sickbay was empty and he was intermittently spraying a strong antiseptic on the counters and wiping it down with a determined look on his face. "Oh, hey." He greeted scrubbing furiously, "Grab a rag and take care of the biobeds. I want to get this done before the first shift."

_You've got to be kidding me. You called me down here to clean?!_

I rolled my eyes and grabbed supplies. "You know, this area was just cleaned." I sighed wrinkling my nose at the strong chemical smell that was sure to kill anything.

"Not to my liking. I don't know that those clowns know how to properly sanitize medical equipment. I'm not taking a chance on someone getting a nasty, raging infection that could have been easily prevented." He grumbled. "My job is hard enough as it is without any added challenges of 'guess the virus that caused flesh eating symptoms' and you can bet it will be Jim that picks that one up."

"So when does the first shift start?" I asked moving on to the next bed, careful to clean the monitors gently.

"I just thought I would run it myself until beta shift. I am counting on the fact that no one will find a way to get into trouble unpacking, but I am being cautiously optimistic." He shook his bottle of chemicals before soaking the crash carts. "I thought I would give the staff a break."

"That was nice of you." I commented jumping when I accidently activated the monitor and the long, annoying tone indicated absence of a heart beat.

He looked in my direction and laughed. "Damn. Lost one already." I smirked and turned it off. "Well, don't let word about me being nice get out. People will think I am slipping and I have a reputation to protect, you know."

"Sure, because everyone loves keeping appointments with Dr. Jekyll. Maybe what you need is a good PR campaign." I snickered.

He squinted playfully at me and replied, "I like how things are just fine, thank you. I don't care if they love or hate me, as long as the job gets done."

"Honey draws more flies than vinegar." I hummed.

He paused and smiled. "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." The sarcasm was thick in his voice.

I laughed. "Now you are just being a jerk. Is that what they teach you in Southern charm school?"

"Now darlin', you should know I didn't do so well in finishin' school. I got kicked out for pulling the girl's pigtails." His accent was thick like syrup and his eyes twinkled. "Suited me just fine. Gave me more time to go fishin'."

"And what a catch you are, Rhett" I mused. He chuckled softly at his 'Gone With the Wind' counterpart. "But really, what was your experience growing up?" His smile faded and he scrubbed even harder at the cart until I though the paint would come off. "Come on, McCoy. I told you about me." I prodded.

"I suppose you did." He sighed. "It's just that there isn't much to tell. It was pretty normal. I told you my whole family is in medicine. I have two older sisters that thought of me as their living baby doll and they dressed me up and played house and tea parties until I got old enough to know that pink frilly dresses and Easter hats didn't suit me."

I laughed despite myself. "That was sweet."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks to them I know way more about table etiquette and women's fashion than a heterosexual male has a right to. Anyway, I ran track in high school, was forced to go to formal dances and learn French in the interest of being a more well rounded gentleman, was suspended once, got into med school, met a soul sucking she devil and yada yada." He trailed off waving his hand.

"You speak French?" I asked with a smile. "Why not something more practical like Spanish?"

"Oui, je parle français." He purred in a low tone. "And it came in very handy when I went to Ole Miss because there were a good number of Creoles and on breaks I would go over to New Orleans with some buddies where it wasn't uncommon for French to be spoken in the deeper parts of the city."

I had to force myself out of the trance he had placed me in. I just found his bilingual skill incredibly attractive. I cleared my throat and he glanced in my direction with a small smile. "So you said you were suspended. What happened?"

He scowled and squatted to clean the bottom half of the cart. "I was a junior in high school at the time and this new kid moved in. He was kind of scrawny, but smart as hell. Of course, kids being cruel as they are, he got picked on a lot and I have to admit I was part of that too sometimes. But one day we were sitting in biology working with microscopes and this kid, I dunno what really happened, but he just fell off his stool and cracked his head on the table behind him. The teacher was gone and everybody just sat there watching this kid bleed all over the floor. So, being from a family of doctors, I went over to check on him just to make sure he wasn't dead or anything and when I moved his head he went into a seizure. Of course I freaked thinking I caused it and one of the kids yelled something like 'what the hell did you do that for' when the teacher came back. He heard what the kid said and saw me by this bleeding and shaking kid and he assumed I had clobbered him or something."

"Why didn't your classmates tell the teacher what happened?" I asked dismayed.

"No one said anything, they were all in shock. Probably didn't help myself any when I told the teacher he was a fucking moron for wasting his time bitching at me when he should have sent someone for the nurse" he shrugged. "I wasn't a doctor then, but damn it even I knew that the kid was in trouble and why the bastard was more concerned with passing out blame rather than dealing with the poor kid, I had no idea. Anyway, I was hauled down to the principal's office and given the 'You know, I really expected more of you, McCoy. Boy won't your father be pissed' speech and suspended for a week. On top of all that, I had to write an apology to the kid _and_ call my Dad at the hospital and tell him what they said I did. It was the most miserable fucking experience ever. Sorry? Sorry for what? Being the only one in the room with balls to try and help him?" He asked bitterly. Even after all those years he was still pissed.

I leaned against a bed and inquired "What happened to the kid?"

He calmed down somewhat and laughed sarcastically. "He didn't remember a damn thing. He didn't even know I had anything to do with it, so a lot of damn good the apology did. I told him I was sorry for something he didn't even know happened. Still, the principal was a dick and he made the suspension stick, so I had to sit at home the entire week and listen to my Dad yell at me every night when he came home from the hospital. My sister and mother just gave me that quiet disapproval that is worse than them screaming at you."

I folded my arms and sadly said, "No one believed you. You were just trying to help the kid and you got punished for it. How discouraging."

He shrugged again. "I really didn't try to convince them. They could think what they wanted, I knew the truth and really I was starting to get bored and pissed with the life they wanted me to lead. I wasn't ever going to be the perfect picture of southern charm and grace, so in a way it was a good thing. I think that was when they finally gave up on me."

I smiled down at him. "You may not be perfect, but you are pretty good at it when you want to be." He lowered his head and blushed slightly. I was surprised it would take so little to embarrass a hardened, jaded guy like him. "At least you dance pretty well." I qualified.

He stood and put his cleaning supplies down. "Yeah, but I was a little rusty. It has been quite awhile since my last cotillion." He wandered over to a sink to wash his hands. "Anything else?"

I raised an eyebrow and debated if I dare approach the topic. "Well, you did meet a soul sucking she devil. How did you get tangled up with someone like that?" He hung his head and dramatically sighed as his shoulders slumped. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." I quickly offered. I could tell it was a very sore spot for him.

He turned to face me and leaned against the sink as he dried his hands. "No, I suppose it would have come up sooner or later." He sighed and collected his thoughts with a scowl before beginning in a low voice, "You know how you were not proud about selling and using drugs? Well, this is probably the one thing in my life I am most ashamed of. She was by far my biggest mistake. I met her at a party a sorority was throwing at the end of the Fall semester. I was only a freshman in med school and she was a friend of one of the sorority members. I usually didn't go to parties because I was busy studying, but my roommate talked me into it because he said I was all work and no play. Anyway, I had been drinking all night and she was a bit soused herself and had been following me all night even though I wasn't that interested in her and I tried to tell her as much. My roommate thought it was funny and kept encouraging her to sit on my lap or play with my hair and stuff like that. By the end of the night we were both drunk off our asses and at the time it seemed a good idea to take our clothes off."

He stopped to frown and his eyes grew dark while he kept aimlessly wiping his hands even though they were dry. I struggled to maintain my neutrality and I prayed he wasn't about to tell me she passed out and he had sex with her anyway. I wasn't prepared to think of him as a rapist.

He cleared his throat and continued. "I didn't even really know her, but I knew that I wasn't interested in her as far as a relationship went. I mean she seemed like a decent person, but I prefer my women to have something between their ears and her head seemed pretty empty. It felt all wrong, but I was so lonely and she was offering, so…" He shrugged miserably. "I had no intention of ever seeing her again, but she showed up at my dorm about 5 months later and told me she was pregnant. I thought my life was fucking over. I didn't want to get married, I was way too young to be a father or a husband. I thought about just running, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave her with a baby that was my responsibility, so I had no other choice than to make an honest woman of her. She was nice enough at first and I was in my second year of med school when Joanna was born. She was the most beautiful thing ever." His eyes glossed over and he smiled. "And when I held her tiny body in my arms I knew right then and there that I couldn't ever leave her. I loved her like nothing else." His smile faded and his voice became irritated. "That was when she began to turn into a harpy. She said I spent too much time in class or at the clinic and when I was home all I wanted to do was hold the baby. She was right about that, every day I looked forward to coming home and playing with my little girl because she always made me smile no matter how shitty my day was. When she learned to walk, she would run to me at the door and wrap her arms around my leg. When she fell off her bike or was scared she always came to me and I think it pissed her mother off. I was always the one that picked her up from school and went to her plays until her mother decided she wanted to separate. To be honest, I never really knew her mother, I never bothered. I just tried to be the best father I could to Jo and provide for them because it felt like living with some random stranger."

"That sounds like an impossible situation. You couldn't leave, but it was almost worse to stay." I commented. "If it weren't for your daughter you may have been able to escape much sooner than you did."

"All because I didn't keep my dick in my pants or at least be sober enough to use protection." He grumbled shaking his head. "I should have listened to that little voice in my head that screamed at me to run, but neither she nor I were in any shape to be making any kind of decisions that night. I knew it wasn't right, but it didn't stop me. At least I got Jo out of the whole mess. That is probably the only silver lining."

I nodded and said, "And you will have to work on getting her back. She deserves to have such a loving father to care for her."

He quickly smiled, but it faded under the weight of his sadness at the reminder that he no longer had her in his life. His expression was pained and full of misery. I quietly grabbed his wrist and gave him a quietly supportive smile which seemed to make it better for a time. I hoped he could be reunited with her, not all little girls were so lucky to have such wonderful fathers.


	17. Chapter 17 Testing 123

**Chapter 17- Testing 1-2-3**

It didn't take long for the newness of the cleaned ship to wear off and the doldrums of days and weeks of drifting in blackness to take their toll. Everyday was the same: Jim twisted listlessly in his chair while Spock paced. Uhura had no news to report at lunch and even Scotty was tinkering with the idea of pulling a fire alarm just to cause some excitement for the crew. I once again delved into my studies, but I made time for lessons with Spock and Sulu in part to keep them busy and feeling as though they had a purpose as well as the relaxation it gave me. On some days I hit the PADD so hard that by the end of the day I wanted nothing more than to flex my physical muscles rather than my mental ones.

I only had about 4 days left of my studies before I had completed the courses and McCoy scheduled my license exam in two because even at that, the ship had to sit at full stop. We had been heading for deep space and were at the very edge of the range for subspace communications with Starfleet. Regulations stipulated that the link must be directly from the ship and not relayed as would have to be done should we venture any further into uncharted territory. The entire ship was waiting on me; no pressure or anything.

I skimmed the rest of the material and chose to use the rest of my allotted time to brush up on a few weak areas, and for that I needed volunteers. "For what?" McCoy asked in a bored tone while he rearranged his drawers yet again. I swore he had OCD sometimes the way he constantly moved items around and cleaned sickbay compulsively.

"Well, stats have never been a strong point for me. Christ, I took it in undergrad and again in graduate school and once more now, and I know how to make sense of research reports but I am not sure I totally get it for an exam. I thought I might ask Pavel if he would be willing to help me." I thought out loud.

McCoy chuckled dryly. "A woman asking him about math? That would be his wet dream."

I smiled. "But I need to find someone I can practice the psychometric tests on. I remember how to do the old versions, but I need to make sure I get the updated procedures right and I can't just use them on anyone."

He raised his eyebrows slightly while he dug deeply in his bottom drawer- the one he kept his brandy in. "Which ones are you going to do?"

"Intelligence…"

"Jim." He blurted out. I started to laugh but he continued. "I'm serious. He would be a good test subject for that one."

"Why? Because he has ADHD? I already know that." I snickered. "He couldn't sit still long enough to do the test without being distracted by something shiny."

He laughed and replied, "He might surprise you. What else?"

"The Rorschach ink blot." I winced.

"Oohhhh." He frowned. "That one's nasty. You could practice on me."

"No way, McCoy." I protested. "I do not want to know that much about you. When I learned it in graduate school I was told to never give it to anyone I was close to because you find out all kinds of things about them that you may not want to know. I need someone relatively safe- I was thinking Spock."

He let out a mighty guffaw. "That would be a big mistake. Hand him one of those blots and ask him what he sees and he will go round and round with you about how illogical it is to designate a subject to a random and meaningless shape."

"Good point." I conceded. Light a light went off in my head, I exclaimed, "Sulu! He is probably the most psychologically stable person on the ship and he is the least likely to give me pathological responses. Now I just have a memory test…"

He pointed at me and stated, "_That_ is Spock." Indeed. I wanted to see how nearly perfect his memory really was. I gathered my materials and set out to find my volunteers.

Since it was slow, I didn't have to worry about removing my subjects from the bridge during their shift as they were not needed in the first place. I didn't tell them which tests I was giving, but they all consented anyway. Sulu seemed eager to have something to do, even if it was sitting though a psychological test. Spock quietly agreed, but didn't seem either excited or hesitant. Jim, however, was chomping at the bit for a challenge and was disappointed I took Sulu first. He sat in his chair with his arms folded like a petulant child that did not get his way.

Judging by Sulu's reaction, he had never seen a Rorschach test before and he was amused at the task of picking out objects among the ambiguous ink splatters. For me it was pure joy to watch him hard at work, slowly rotating the cards and moving them closer or further away to identify familiar shapes because each action along with his answers told me more about the way he approached the world. As I suspected, he gave fairly normal answers that indicated he was an individual who liked to be in control of his environment, which was not surprising given his occupation as a pilot, but he was also able to adapt well to novel situations by alternating between minute detail and the big picture adopting a more holistic approach to problem solving. He was a little short on emotional content, but what he did have was appropriate and healthy. In terms of relationships, he had a nicely balanced attitude between being open and fair in his expectations of others and not being too reliant on them for his sense of self. I did pick up a hint of depression, but I chose to interpret it as situational boredom.

I thanked him as I opened the door to the conference room. Jim immediately perked up and looked at me expectantly, but I asked, "Spock, are you available?" Jim's face fell as Spock stopped pacing and walked in my direction with a determined look on his face. I just wasn't ready for him yet. I knew Sulu would be easy and I suspected Spock would accomplish his task with equal ease; Jim I would save for last because I just knew he would sap every ounce of strength I had left.

He sat tensely at the table and had I not known him better I would have said that he was experiencing test taking anxiety or as we in the profession called it, 'white coat phobia.' I tried to put him at ease by thanking him for helping me and telling him it was a memory test, but the whole time his eyes never moved from the pile of test materials on the desk. The test required him to memorize a series of 50 human faces, 16 word pairs that were not associated by similarity, minute details of 4 complex pictures, and details of two stories that were several paragraphs long all to be learned and repeated again 45 minutes later unprompted as well as strings of digits to be repeated forward and backwards, and sequences of mixed letters and numbers that he had to first memorize and then repeat in cardinal order. It was bizarre to watch him: he didn't once move for the entire two hours it took to administer the test and he barely blinked. It was like he was in some kind of trance, but he recalled all of the information almost flawlessly. I was blown away by his near perfect eidetic memory. Just for kicks, I asked him to repeat the number and letter sequences which no human could do and he was able to recall most of them. I had an even deeper level of respect for him and his godlike capabilities and was still in awe when I finally called Jim.

He bounced in the room and plopped down in the chair with a playful frown. "I can't believe you made me go last." He pouted. "Hey!" He smiled playing with colored blocks I had placed on the table.

"Give those back!" I gently scolded moving them out of his reach and looking at him suspiciously. "Have you had this test before?"

He flicked the last block at me across the table and answered, "Yeah, I think this was one of the ones Bones gave me when he was doing his psych rotation back at the Academy. It is an intelligence test, right?"

"It is." I grudgingly answered. You were never supposed to tell the examinee what the test was for since it usually induced panic, but I could see it clearly wasn't the case for Jim.

"Damn. I was hoping I would get the ink spot thingy. I tried to talk Bones into giving it to me once, but he just laughed like a maniac. I never could figure out what was so funny…" He scratched the back of his neck and smiled with eager eyes. "Can I have a beer while I do this?"

"If you want to lose a few IQ points." I replied setting the test up, making sure most things were out of his reach so he wouldn't be tempted again. Despite all my reservations, the moment testing began he settled into an intensely focused mood and he approached each task with a single minded concentration that surprised me. He worked quickly and decisively, often employing unconventional strategy and fluid thinking that I found amusing and wholly creative. Sometimes it cost him points and sometimes it earned him bonus points, but in the end he was fairly consistent in his approach. When we were finished, he sat back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head with a smile. "Well, how'd I do, Doc?"

I quickly scored the test and looked it over. "Not unlike most men, you do a little better at non-verbal things than you do verbal, but overall your scores are well above average."

He smirked at me. "What's the big number? C'mon, I know you don't like giving it out, but I know you have it. What's my IQ?"

I shifted in my chair and sighed. "IQ is a composite number that…"

"Yeah, yeah." He waved dismissively. "It's a composite number that is only a snapshot of this moment in time. It is flexible and is only a rough estimate of ability." He leaned forward and his blue eyes sparkled. "So what is it?"

I gave him a guarded smile, McCoy must have given him the spiel when he gave him the test. "132." I whispered.

"Yes!" He hissed raising his hands above his head in victory. "Better than last time!"

"Well, from the way it sounds you may have benefited from a very steep learning curve since your last test." I stated packing up my tests.

"Whatever," he smiled, "the point is I am smarter now, so take that down to Bones and shove it in his face." He did a little victory dance and I laughed. "So are you done now- with everything?"

"Yeah." I sighed happily. I didn't think the moment would ever come. "My exam is in two days."

He leaned on the back of the chair. "That's cool. That should give us enough time."

"To do what?" I inquired walking with him to the door.

"Chekov spotted a small planet not far off and we were going to skip over there real quick to do some scans and maybe a surface exploration if there is anything interesting before hurrying back in time for your exam. The crew is dying for something to do." He explained. It did seem grossly unfair that I was holding everyone up, but I just had a bad feeling about this. "Mr. Chekov, what's the ETA?"

"Approximately 36 minutes, Sir." He dutifully reported.

"Mr. Spock, anything on preliminary scans?" He asked reclaiming his seat.

"The planetoid appears to have an oxygen rich atmosphere with bodies of water present. Scans indicate microbial flora as well as larger aquatic plant matter." He stated pushing buttons on his console. "Most have been matched to the database, but there are species that are unidentified."

"Great." Jim said mildly hopeful. "Sulu, Uhura, saddle up 'cause we are going down."

"If I may inquire, Captain, what good will Cadet Uhura's presence be if none of the species appear to be sentient and therefore able to communicate?" Spock asked calmly agitated.

Jim leaned his head back to look at his Science Officer without actually getting up. "C'mon, Spock. She never gets to go anywhere, give her a break." Uhura smiled and removed her earpiece. Spock clasped his hands behind his back and drew his mouth into a tight line, he knew he had no real grounds to object yet he very much wanted to.


	18. Chapter 18 Outbreak

**Chapter 18- Outbreak**

Jim had extended his offer to me to go down to the surface as well, but I declined in favor of getting in some study time with Pavel who was only too eager to share his expertise on all things mathematical. I sat in Sulu's chair on the bridge and was just a little intimidated by all the controls at his station. I was paranoid I might accidently bump something and send the ship in full reverse at warp 9 or something.

Pavel was almost breathless as he explained the nuances of non-linear equations and I sat politely and smiled, but could see no relevance between that and statistics. However, he was so passionate about his topic I couldn't stop to correct him. Spock sat in the Captain's chair and watched the whole affair with a slight smirk in between glances at the tiny blue planet on the screen that looked like a perfectly round sapphire. In Uhura's absence, he had patched the away team's communications through to the intercom system on the bridge so he could better monitor the situation.

"Sulu, got your specimen jars?" Jim's voice drifted down.

"Aye, Sir."

"Everybody double check your suits. It looks pretty wet down there."

"Aye, Captain." Sulu and Uhura answered in unison.

"Ok," he sighed, "take us down, Scotty."

"Aye, Captain." Scotty cheerily replied. "….uh…..shite."

Pavel, Spock and I all looked anxiously up at the ceiling. Shite was never a good thing.

"Christ, Scotty! Thanks a lot!" Jim sputtered. "Drop us in the middle of the damn ocean! God, I hope there aren't any sharks or anything like that circling us."

"Negative, Captain," Spock interjected. "Scans did not pick up any fauna."

"Good. Hurry up, Sulu. This water is damn cold and I am freezing my nuts off."

"Captain," Uhura said in a barely controlled panic, "something just hit my leg."

"Probably seaweed or something." He reassured her, but you could hear the tension in his voice. "Still, maybe we should all gather samples so we can get the hell out of here. Don't swim too far off."

There was some splashing and the sound of rapid, shuddering breaths as the cold water sapped all the heat from their bodies and hypothermia set in. "Bridge to Medical." Spock summoned. "Report to the transporter room with warming blankets and stand by."

"Goddamn it." McCoy sighed. "I just knew it. On my way."

Pavel and I glanced at each other and smiled. No away mission would be complete without some complication. Our smiles quickly faded when we heard a gasp and gurgling sound and Sulu's worried voice call, "Captain?"

"He was just here!" Uhura exclaimed. There was more splashing and then, "Sulu!" Chekov bolted upright in his chair and looked at the blue orb peacefully rotating on the screen as though he could see his friend. "Scotty!" she yelled, "Get us out of here!"

"Aye!" He responded tensely. "Just a second…"

"We don't have a second!" She screamed. "They are drowning!"

Chekov looked at Spock in panicked anticipation for permission to go to his friend, but Spock denied the silent request with a slight narrowing of his eyes. "I will go check on him and give you a call." I promised heading for the lifts. I knew Spock's decision was not malicious, he needed Chekov to stay on the bridge, but it was hell for Chekov to just sit there. Instead of going all the way down to the transporter rooms, I went to sickbay and in under a minute, McCoy came crashing through the doors carrying Jim over his shoulder followed by Scotty who had Sulu. Uhura walked in on her own shaking like a leaf.

McCoy dumped Jim onto a table like a sack of potatoes and went to work giving him chest compressions with a grim look on his face. "Come on, damn you." He growled while he gave it all he had. I would have thought Jim dead if the monitors didn't say he still had a weak pulse. His lips were an eerie shade of blue and his skin was pale, but McCoy kept at it even though it became clear he was quickly running out of strength. Across the room, Sulu was undergoing a similar ordeal and Uhura tensely watched with a blanket draped around her delicate shoulders while Scotty stood by her helplessly. We all looked in relief at Sulu when he groaned and then turned his head so he could raggedly cough up a good amount of water. He looked like hell, but at least he was alive. It took several more minutes for Jim to finally cough and spew water all over McCoy who was already soaked from carrying him. He quickly wiped the water from his eyes and looked irritated and exhausted, but satisfied. The self congratulatory mood rapidly evaporated, however, as he set to work on getting his friend warmed and tending to his weak vitals.

I reported back to Pavel as I had promised and although he was happy his friend was going to be ok, I knew he would feel better when he could talk to him for himself. Spock received the report on Jim's condition with a stoic sense of duty knowing that he would be acting Captain for the next day or so. I knew McCoy wouldn't be at dinner, nor would Scotty or Chekov so I just ate in my room and checked on them in sickbay. Uhura was tired and didn't want to talk, so I let her go knowing that she would be safe with Scotty. Sulu was sleeping peacefully, so I didn't disturb him and Jim had been given a sedative to keep him from walking out because McCoy wanted to make sure he wasn't going to contract pneumonia from having so much fluid in his lungs.

I found McCoy in the office with his head down on his desk. He had changed into dry clothes and his wet uniform lay in a pile by the door. It was a testament to how tired he was, that type of thing would usually be a major violation of his OCD clean rules. "Hey." I greeted patting his shoulder.

"Oww." He winced.

"Are your muscles sore?" I asked kicking his wet clothes out of the way. He nodded yes with his face pressed against his desk, making his features twist and contort. I stood behind his chair and gently massaged his shoulders and was rewarded with a couple of happy sounding grunts. "You had a hard day." I observed.

He lay there with his eyes closed for a few minutes before grumbling, "I thought that was it. I thought today was the day I was going to lose him."

"But you didn't." I encouraged moving from his shoulders to his neck. I hesitated when my fingers ran over the faint scar at the base of his neck. I didn't know why, but I felt overwhelmingly guilty as though I should have somehow acted faster to prevent it. His eyes flickered open, but it wasn't because he too was aware of the mark, at least not in any way that had any bearing on the task at hand, but he didn't want me to stop.

I carried on as if I didn't notice and he again closed his eyes with a faint smile. "I think I could die right now." He muttered. "Oh wait, I can't. Jim's still around."

"That's right." I stated emphatically letting my hands drop from his neck. "And the rest of us too."

"Mmmph." He huffed. He again opened his eyes to look at me over his shoulder. "More?" He asked hopefully. I smiled and obliged the cranky doctor. "Ahhhhhh." He sighed contentedly with a smile. I didn't so much mind because things very often didn't go his way and it was a small thing for me to try and ease his physical discomfort. After all, we had a deal.

I was awakened in the middle of the night by a very strange page from Spock requesting me to meet him in sickbay. I didn't even bother changing, I rationalized it by thinking that if it were an actual crisis, it wouldn't matter what I was wearing because time would be of the essence over apparel. When I arrived, Spock was standing in the middle of a packed sickbay overflowing with crewmembers and very few medical staff.

He immediately took notice of me and seemed a little surprised. "Thank you for coming, Doctor. As you see, the ship is experiencing something of an outbreak."

"Of what?" I breathed taking in the sheer number of very sick looking individuals.

"I am not certain. Have you experienced fever, chills, joint pain, sweating, or a rash in the past 12 hours?" He queried calmly. I shook my head no in confusion. "Those appear to be the chief symptoms of this illness. Whatever it is, it has spread throughout the entire ship in hours and appears to be highly contagious. I suspect the origin lies with the away team as they were the first to display the symptoms."

I looked around the room and couldn't even see Jim or Sulu on the beds for all the standing people crowding the room. "Where's McCoy?" I asked. "Shouldn't he be handling this mess?"

"He would, however he may have become infected during his care of Jim and he is currently confined to his quarters. It would appear, Doctor, that you and I are the only unaffected individuals on the ship. I have run some preliminary tests on blood sampled from the Captain as well as my own and it would seem that I simply lack the receptor the agent binds to. Now I must ascertain why you remain immune. May I collect blood?"

"Sure." I reluctantly agreed trying to think of how we were going to handle this mess. I winced when he inserted the needle and although he didn't say he was sorry, I gathered that he was by the way he lowered his eyes. He filled two vials and shook them well. I held a small wad of cotton to the site until it stopped bleeding. "What do you suggest we do with them?" I asked nodding toward the overfilled main room.

He glanced back as though he had forgotten all about them. "We will have to collect vital data on each one and suffice with palliative care until I am able to isolate the agent and identify it." I frowned. He stared off with 'we' but it seemed he really meant 'you.'

"Alright." I sighed. "It will do no good to have them all cramped up here like cattle. You stay here and do your thing and I will send them to their rooms and make rounds. If any seem to be fine I will isolate them from the others and if any are in danger, I will send them down here."

"But I am not a physician." He protested. "I will not know how to treat them."

"Neither am I, Spock, but you learn by doing and using logic to think your way through. I know you can do that." I grabbed a small travel bag from a cabinet and packed it with a tricorder and a PADD before turning to the expectant crowd. "I want everyone to go back to your rooms, I will come and check on you there. If any of you feel you are desperately sick and in dire need of attention, stay here." It sounded like Night of the Living Dead as people grumbled and shuffled their way out the door and into the hall. I turned back to Spock and said, "If I can find any medical personnel that are able to help I will send them down to help you. Good luck, Spock."

He nodded and walked over to look down at Sulu who was now awake and moaning in misery. He lightly placed his hand on the pilot's arm and I found it incredibly surprising coming from a man who insisted that he knew nothing of comforting gestures.

I began on the lower decks where the crew members slept two to a room. It was a good arrangement for me since it allowed me to move faster through the list. Every room was the same: I scanned them to get a temperature reading, made a list of symptoms, told them to drink water, put all the information on my PADD and moved on. I got slogged down when I reached the Officer's decks since it was one person to a room and I had to repeat instructions.

I had used my code so many times to override doors I didn't even have to look at the keypad anymore. I quickly punched it in and entered McCoy's room. He was in bed, curled into a ball of absolute misery. I sat on the edge of his bed and he squinted hard at me. "What are you doing?" He demanded. "You shouldn't be running around."

I passed the scanner close to his forehead and he glared at it in distain. "I have no idea what is going around, but it looks like Spock and I are the only ones that have not caught it." He had a fever of 102, but his skin was cool to the touch.

"Green blooded bastard." He growled into his sheets.

"So, I am making house calls in your absence to gather data that might help Spock figure out what this is." I sighed entering his information and rattling off the list of symptoms. He grunted for yes and remained silent for no. It was a great indignity to him, but I had to lift his shirt and roll up his pant legs to look for any signs of a rash that about half of those infected displayed. I had also noticed that those that seemed worse also had bloodshot eyes and white spots in the mouth, so I turned up the dim lights enough to check.

"Goddamn this is embarrassing." He slurred as I held his mouth open and peered in.

"Imagine how I felt when you took a grand tour of my body. This hardly amounts to that, so quit your bitching and get over it." I laughed.

"That doesn't count!" He protested with a scowl.

"Blah blah blah." I mocked. "Just keep your ass in the bed, drink water, and sleep."

He looked at me with such incredulity and shock I couldn't help but smirk. He was accustomed to giving orders like that, but he didn't like taking them. "At least let me see what you got so far." He grumbled resigned to his fate.

"I will send a copy to you when I am done." I promised. "But I have a few more stops to make, so you be a good boy until then." I patted him patronizingly on the arm and he narrowed his eyes. "I will come back and check on you again when I am done." I said in a softer tone. "We have a deal, remember?" He smiled faintly in response and in the private communication we shared he looked as though he appreciated it. I smiled back at him and thought it strange that we had gone so long without using it.

When I finished the decks, I still had outstanding slots on the PADD for Scotty and Chekov. On a hunch, I went to the bridge and found Chekov laying on the floor in front of his station. "Hello, Doctor." He waved weakly. I knelt beside him and went to work.

"What are you doing up here by yourself, Pavel?" I asked sympathetically.

"I'm not alone." He corrected pointing toward the conference room. "Scotty is sleeping on the conference table. The bridge must be manned at all times and I vasn't feeling too bad at the time I agreed to stay."

He had a very mild fever and his blue eyes were thankfully clear. He was definitely infected, but not as bad as most others. Scotty, on the other hand, had all the signs and symptoms of a raging infection. He barely moved while I examined him. I tried to encourage him by saying that Spock was working on a solution and hopefully he would find something soon, but he responded in slurred Scottish nonsense.

I was almost relieved when Spock paged me. "Doctor, I believe I have located the cause of your immunity. You carry antibodies specific to the virus that causes the illness in your blood. While the virus is present, your T-cells have rendered it inactive and unable to replicate. I believe I can synthesize a booster using your antibodies, but I will require more blood."

_Vampire._


	19. Chapter 19 Sickness and Misery

**Chapter 19- Sickness and Misery**

I sat wearily in the chair and allowed Spock to nearly exsanguinate me. I thought bloodletting went out of fashion with the dark ages, but I was apparently mistaken. "You know, Spock, there are only 10 pints of blood in a human body. I can make more, but I am feeling kind of dizzy here." I said lolling my head in his direction.

He regarded me with his usual fixed stare and unsympathetically replied, "I can safely remove 20% of your total blood volume or two pints before you exhibit signs of loss such as paleness or dizziness. I am not certain how many attempts it will take before a vaccine is perfected or how much blood I will need for the process of synthesis and testing. Therefore, I will extract the allowable amount at one sitting to prevent subsequent needle insertions. According to Dr. McCoy's medical reference database, I am not permitted to collect more until 56 days have passed. "

I looked away slightly panicked at the thought of missing 20% of my body's blood. It seemed like an awfully big hole in my being. I knew it was for a good cause, but I wondered if I was going to die in the process. When he had exactly two pints, he disconnected me and began his work at the microscopes. "It would seem that this virus is very similar to one in the Starfleet database that had been declared eradicated in 2107 causing a disease referred to as measles."

"Yeah, I have antibodies to that because I was vaccinated as a kid." I stood up slowly and concentrated very hard on not passing out. I wanted to just lay down for awhile, but I promised McCoy I would check on him again and it was probably the longest two floor ride of my life.

He was sitting up in bed reading the file I had sent him with a frown. He glanced up and observed, "You look like shit."

I was too tired to care about the insult although on any other day I wouldn't have let it slide. "Spock bled me dry." I sighed plopping down in his chair by the bed. "He is trying to make a vaccine from antibodies in my blood. Imagine that! You have the second 'M' of the useless MMR vaccine I got waaaay back in the stone age." I mocked with a smile. "Smile, you have measles. Or at least something close enough to it."

"How much did he take?" He asked suspiciously. I held up two fingers and he went on. "I hope that means pints. Christ, was he trying to kill you?"

"He said he researched it and your computer said it was safe." It didn't seem right at the time, but I had no reason to question him.

"If you are a 300 pound male, yes!" He growled wild eyed. "Goddamn! That's what I get for leaving him unattended down there." He calmed somewhat and added, "You must be pretty damn tired, but you had better drink up to thin out what blood you do have before your blood pressure goes all screwy and you hit the deck like a ton of bricks."

"I will." I promised standing and swaying again. "I just wanted to see how you were."

"A hell of a lot better than you by the looks of it." He scowled none too happy.

"Ok, then." I replied airily. "I am off to bed. Call me if you need anything." He didn't say a word other than his narrowed eyes expressing great displeasure and wariness.

I drank two glasses of water before I went to bed thinking that somehow it would all equal out in the end and fell into a deep sleep. It only lasted long enough for McCoy's paranoia to get the better of him and give him the drive to drag himself out of bed and stalk the halls like the walking dead. I only knew this because at some point he came to my room on his travels and forced me to drink more water. No matter what I said or how I scolded him, he sat motionless on the bed and watched the water disappear down my throat without saying a word or even acknowledging that any of my tirades registered. He had work to do and come hell or high water he was going to see to it consequences be damned. "You don't have to worry about Jim." I stated between gulps. "You will be the orchestrator of your own death with this pigheaded…" He casually tipped the bottom of the glass in my hand forcing me to either spill it all over myself or stop talking to drink it. "I will get you for that." I vowed after I had finished the glass. He only smiled as he walked out the door and on to his next victim.

I slept for a few more hours and woke up feeling a little weak, but better than before. I went to sickbay to check on Spock although I knew there were no new developments because he would have paged me. Sulu had apparently been discharged, but I found McCoy trying to examine a mostly uncooperative Jim who was upset he had been knocked out and missed a crisis on the ship. "Don't look at me like that!" Jim howled. "You look like the fucking exorcist! You are seriously creeping me out, man."

I approached Jim's side and tried to calm him somewhat until I saw what he was talking about. McCoy's eyes were blood red just like some of the others had been. His condition was clearly deteriorating. "Stop being such a pussy." McCoy scolded. "The sooner we get this over the sooner I will let you go so you can go cause trouble somewhere else. Now hold still!" Jim stared at the ceiling with his mouth drawn tight in displeasure, but he allowed McCoy to scan his chest and coughed and breathed deeply when he was told to in order to prove he did not have pneumonia. And when it came to Jim, verifiable evidence was required because his word alone was not always sufficient. He would have claimed to be the Tooth Fairy if he thought it would have got him off the table any faster. Apparently satisfied, he gruffly barked, "Now go to your room."

Jim sat up and eyed him with just a little bit of irritation. "Do I get to eat my supper first, Daddy, or do I have to go to bed hungry?" McCoy gave him a warning glare and Jim jumped down off the table holding his gaze with equal ferocity. It was just like the last showdown they had in sickbay when the other captured humans were rescued from the Romulans.

"Guys." I sighed blocking their respective views. "Jim, I'm glad to see you are felling better, but you probably should rest. McCoy, Jim has a point- you probably should rest too."

Jim relaxed a little at least being understood, but McCoy wasn't so congenial. "You don't get to tell me what to do." He growled at me in a low tone with a very angry look in his eye. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Bones!" Jim cried incredulously. "Don't talk to her like that, she is only trying to help you, you arrogant dick!"

McCoy's eyes flashed with rage. "Fuck you, Jim! I take orders from you only because I fucking have to. I will not take marching orders from _her_!"

I was struggling to get control of the situation while simultaneously trying to figure out what had gotten into McCoy to make him act like this. "McCoy," I said calmly stretching my hand toward him, "I did not order you to do anything. But if we can all just be rational here…"

He squinted and slapped my hand out of the way. "Fuck you, Collins!" He hissed.

Before I could compose a response, Jim had jumped the gap between us and tackled McCoy to the floor and gave him a few swift, hard punches to the head. "Fucker!" He yelled getting up. "Beating on women, now? Jesus, Bones. I thought better of you." McCoy wiped blood from his mouth and let his head hit the floor with a sigh. Jim stood over him shaking with adrenaline, his fists clenched tightly and smeared with blood. He looked down at his friend with such sadness and confusion it was heartbreaking. Spock appeared from the lab and observed the scene with a slightly raised eyebrow, but decided against commenting on the issue other than to say, "I believe I have found the correct amalgamation. I will have individual doses for shipwide distribution within the hour."

"Thanks, Spock." Jim panted finally unclenching his fists. McCoy rolled his head and mumbled incoherently with his eyes at half-mast. The thin sheen of perspiration that layered his pale skin just below his hairline caught my attention. I slowly knelt beside him and placed the back of my hand against his forehead. He didn't fight or shy away, all that was long gone and he was left with only an all consuming lethargy. I fetched a tricorder from a cart and took his temperature. When the results came, I stared at it in horror.

I looked at Jim in shock. "106.4" As far as I knew, McCoy was a healthy adult aside from the infection and the magic number for brain damage was 107.6 so there was no real cause for panic. However, one small degree seemed like a sliver and just a breath away from flirting with disaster. But with a fever that high, he would certainly not be thinking straight and may have even been suffering from altered perception or delusions.

"That sounds like a very bad thing." He said nervously. "What do we do?"

"Get him to his room." I instructed. "Spock, let me know when you are done with the doses and I will come and help you deliver them."

Even though Jim was not at his best himself, he struggled valiantly to get his friend to his room by practically dragging him most of the way. It was no easy feat because McCoy was limp with exhaustion and consisted of mostly dead weight. Jim was driven by the compulsion to help a friend in need, but he no doubt also felt a certain measure of guilt for beating him when he wasn't completely in control of what he was doing. Rationally I knew this, but my hand still stung from his swat and the words that hurt even more. I wasn't sure how much of it was deeply buried truth and how much was gibberish.

Jim helped me remove his clothes down to a shirt and his boxers and we covered him up despite his protests that he was too hot. I used his replicator to make aspirin which I crushed and mixed with water for him to drink. Hopefully it would bring his fever down and mask some of the pain from his split lip. Jim and I sat with him and took turns placing a cool cloth on his forehead to make him a little more comfortable. Finally, the aspirin took effect and he fell into a light sleep. Jim leaned forward and sighed looking first at his bloody knuckles and then to his friend. "You know I have never actually punched him before?" He asked rhetorically. "As many times as I threatened to kick his ass, I have never had the balls to actually do it. And you know what? It sucks."

"You didn't know, Jim." I said in a soft voice. "I didn't either until I saw him sweating."

"I should have, though." He replied bitterly. "You would like to think that you know someone after living with them and being friends with them for years. I knew it wasn't like him to act like that. I can't even tell you at what point I snapped. I just did."

"As bad as you may feel, Jim, think about how he will feel when he wakes up and hears about what he did." I stated.

"Do you forgive him?" He asked with sad blue eyes. "Can you just shrug and say it doesn't matter that he hit you and said those things?"

I couldn't look at him because although I could shrug, I couldn't absolutely be sure that he didn't mean it. "I can." I could shrug and say it didn't matter, but was I really just lying to myself or making excuses for him? "You stay here, I am going to see how the vaccine is coming." I said curtly getting up.

I didn't hate Jim, it was an honest question. What I hated was the realization that it wouldn't have been the first time that had ever happened to me and I was dangerously close to letting someone have that much control over me again. That wasn't what I worked so hard to get away from. He may not have meant any of it, but that was not the point. Somewhere along the way I had traded my hard fought independence for what? A brief, superficial, courtly love that only made my loneliness deeper in the absence of the real thing. I had to give the benefit of the doubt to McCoy because maybe he really was delusional, but even so it didn't make it hurt any less.

Spock regarded me with a cautious eye while he divided up the vials of clear liquid for us to carry and administer. He had noticed that something was very wrong, but seemed unsure about how to tactfully approach it without seeming to take sides. In the end he said nothing and I was grateful for it, taking my half of the allotment and heading for the upper decks while he took the lower. I moved almost wordlessly from room to room injecting, cleaning and reloading the hypo with each arm I came in contact with. No one asked questions, they just quietly obeyed as sheep. I knew that Spock, by virtue of his very presence demanded the same cooperation. I injected Jim and McCoy with speed and a sense of urgency, leaving Jim to rub his arm squinting. I beat Spock back to sickbay and simply dropped my bag of empty vials on a counter and retreated to my room to hide from the world and attempt to quell the maelstrom of foreboding feelings that threatened to choke me to death.


	20. Chapter 20 Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Chapter 20- Leaving on a Jet Plane**

I must have cried for hours. I was angry at myself for allowing anyone to get the best of me again. I had been so careful for so long to meticulously manage how others saw me and it worked because I never gave anyone the chance to find the chinks in my armor. I was supposed to be in control, touching but never touched; that was how I approached my profession. And the one time I let my guard down, the one time I thought I could have faith in another I paid the price.

My exam was in two hours, but I couldn't force myself to care. I knew it was important but my philosophy had always been either you know it or you don't, last minute cramming would get you nothing but confused. My door chimed and I was slightly irritated at the intrusion, but I answered it nonetheless. It was Spock. My stomach turned slightly.

"May I enter?" he asked politely. I shrugged and let him in where he stood in the middle of the room at attention with a stern expression. "I hope I am not disrupting any preparations for your examination, however, I came to inform you that at the conclusion of your test you will be boarding the USS Vico which will transport you most of the way to Earth. They will make further arrangements for you to arrive at the Academy." He paused apparently expecting some kind of protest at the short notice, but I gave none. He frowned slightly and asked, "May I make a personal observation, Doctor?" I raised my eyebrows to encourage him to go on. I just didn't feel like talking today. "It appears that you may have been adversely impacted by the events in sickbay in which you attempted to intervene between Dr. McCoy and the Captain. I am inclined to believe that the Doctor's actions were the result of delirium as I have never before observed him to strike a female. I do not believe that is within the acceptable constructs of his regional heritage. However, as he is a Starfleet officer and you are at this time a civilian, you retain the right to have him court marshaled for behavior unbecoming of an officer. Do you wish to proceed with the charges?"

"No." I whispered miserably. As much as I may have wanted revenge, I knew deep down that McCoy was not much of a fighter by nature and certainly no woman beater. To go ahead with the charges would have forced Jim to testify against his friend as a witness and it all seemed like too much wanton destruction to be justifiable. If he was going to suffer, it wouldn't be at my hands because that would have made me no better than his ex-wife.

"As you wish, Doctor." He quietly replied. He lingered just a moment more before saying, "I am sorry for this experience. If I may make one more observation, it does appear that you and the doctor have a….certain….compatibility. I will not excuse his actions as you would not excuse Nyota's, but if I may quote a familiar voice to you: 'Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.' Simply put, it would be remiss of you to judge his entire being by this one instance. Even you must know, Doctor, that humans are not always in control of what they do despite a desire to be perfect."

I smiled at his paraphrasing of the very words I told him when his relationship with Uhura ended as well as his quote from Shakespeare. His memory did indeed run long. "But we often fail miserably." I sighed. "I am not angry with him. I am just…..too wrapped up in myself I guess." That was in fact what lie at the very core: it was not so much what he did- it was my blaming or at least equating him with everyone who had wronged me in the past and it simply wasn't fair to him. I could only hold him accountable for his own actions and even that was thrown into question.

"Understandable, however, I have been amazed time and again by the human capacity for forgiveness even for the most egregious offenses." He stated tilting his head slightly. "Even you had what you called a 'moment of grace' for the Romulan female that was in part responsible for your capture and imprisonment when I as well as yourself were certain you were going to exact revenge." It seemed like so long ago. "Of course I will remain impartial to whatever resolution you seek, but I would suggest that you and the doctor come to an understanding before your departure. Perhaps no one more so than I knows how expensive regret can be. One is never assured of more time so it is best not to leave things undone." His words weighed heavy in the air knowing they were going into deep space to face who knew what. "I wish you success on your exam and I look forward to your return." He added as he left. He wasn't much on goodbyes.

I began packing my things, such as they were, into a Starfleet bag. I emptied my drawers and found the picture McCoy gave to me to cheer me up when I had lost Meyers. It always made me smile to see the excitement on Pavel's face and the misery on McCoy's as he growled at him. I turned it over to read the message in McCoy's chicken scratch: 'You are not alone.' Maybe not, but some days were worse than others. I picked up the PADD I bought on the starbase that I had intended to give to McCoy; now I wondered if it was such a good idea. My door chimed again and I rolled my eyes. It was McCoy. My stomach turned twice.

He looked at the floor sheepishly while I stared at him waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath and said, "I…uh..heard you were leavin' in a few hours." His voice was low and strained as though it required great effort. "I just wanted to say goodbye and good luck…and…" I leaned on the doorframe waiting for him to either walk away or break because I sure as hell wasn't going to. He frowned and squinted at me. "Can I talk to you maybe someplace a little more private than a hallway?"

I debated if I really wanted him in my room. As hard as I tried to fight it, an intense urge to watch him squirm held fast over what I knew should have been more neutral reasoning. I wanted nothing more than to bring all my manipulative forces to bear in order to destroy him Mortal Kombat style and it frightened me because I knew I could. Finally, I stepped aside to let him in and resumed packing while he leaned against my desk.

"Morgan, I heard about what happened." He said in a barely audible voice. I paused because he never called me by my first name. "I barely remember it, but Jim told me what I did to deserve the busted lip and he was right. I can't tell you why or where it came from."

"Because you meant it?" I asked tersely.

"No!" He declared vehemently. "I didn't and I would never. I swear to you on everything I hold sacred I don't feel that way about you. How can I convince you?"

"You don't have to convince me of anything." I mumbled stuffing clothing into my bag. "If you are saying you are sorry, fine. We're cool."

He grabbed me by the shoulders and I immediately pulled away. "You are being awfully possessive for something that doesn't belong to you." I hissed. "Look, McCoy, you were sick and out of your mind. I can live with that. But for God's sake don't make this out to be any more than it was and don't think that 'sorry' amounts to a reset button."

The expression on his face was one of complete frustration and a total lack of words. It clearly begged, '_Please_ believe me.' I paused when I got the message. Suddenly it was no longer fun to kick the puppy. He quickly looked away with a scowl when his eyes became red and watery. He swallowed it all down and put his hands on his hips with a sigh. I felt like a jerk. "McCoy, I know it should be as easy as that, but it just isn't. It isn't your fault that my instincts tell me to retreat and it isn't even how I would like things to be, but reflexes are hard to change. That was largely how I dealt with things: run away or stay and feel absolutely nothing. It will be ok, I just need some time to come crawling back to where I was because the last thing I want is to exist in a numb shell of myself the way I did for so many years. What happened just scared me more than it probably should have and it was too easy to slip back into old habits."

He nodded somberly and to my surprise drew me into a tight embrace. "I don't want you to, either." His hot breath danced across my scalp and I reluctantly wrapped my arms around his midsection because letting them dangle at my sides seemed rude. He finally released me and smirked. "You know, I am only going to say this once, but if I would have listened to you this would have never happened." I smiled and laughed at his reluctant admission. I was right and he was wrong! I wanted to dance, but it seemed just a bit too much- maybe after he left… "Now, do you need any help packing?"

"No, I think I am pretty much done." I answered looking around the room.

"Look, Collins, I am not real big on goodbyes, but I'm not going to be there to see you off. I just…" he paused and cleared his throat with a frown, "anyway, safe travels and good luck on your exam and training. Remember, be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. I know you are tough, you'll be ok."

I felt my knees turn to jelly. "Did you just quote Shakespeare?" I gasped.

He gave a wickedly devious smile and replied, "Twelfth Night, Act 2 scene wasn't the only thing I studied at the Academy, darlin'. Since I already had a degree, I had to fill my schedule with something aside from the refreshers, so I took classic literature."

I couldn't find words even though I wanted to say something. I was too stunned by the fluency and grace with which the words fell from his lips in a slightly sweet southern accent. I finally shook myself free of the paralysis and noted, "That is s fairly common quote. If you want to impress me try something a little harder. Nothing from Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Sonnet 18 or 73 and nothing about dogs of war, trading kingdoms for horses, or once more unto the breach."

His eyes sparkled as he laughed at the challenge and long list of stipulations. "Ok, let's see…" he mused still smiling. "I never tempted her with word too large. But, as a brother to his sister, show'd bashful sincerity and comely love."

"Much Ado About Nothing." I sighed catching the irony of his choice.

"Act 4, scene 1." He smiled.

"I had no idea you liked Shakespeare so much. He happens to be my favorite poet." I admitted still feeling dizzy as though his words were wine. A man who spoke French and knew Shakespeare? If he played an instrument, enjoyed fine art or a nice glass of wine now and then I was all his. A mind that gifted was too good to ignore and far too sexy to me.

"Not many do and I would be much obliged if you keep that a secret. I had to hide it from Jim, he thought Shakespeare was a jerk who wrote in archaic English just to piss him off." He rolled his eyes. "The kid has no taste. But to be fair Spock did mention it. The thought of the Bard's words coming from that dispassionate hobgoblin's mouth is just too disturbing for me to think about." He huffed and shook his head in disgust.

"Well then," I smirked picking up the PADD from the desk behind him, "this is for you. Another of my favorites if you haven't read it already."

He took it from me with a small bashful smile and turned it on. "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." He chuckled. "I have never read this all the way through. It was mentioned as a cult classic, but we never got a chance to study it because the whole damn Nero thing."

"I thought you may like it as it is all sarcasm and wry irony in space travel. Let's just hope things will be slow enough in sickbay for you to read it while I am gone." I checked the time and it was getting close to my scheduled exam. "I have to go." I informed him sadly. "Take care of yourself. I hope you feel better."

"I do." He replied. "In a very real way you are with me. Your antibodies will keep me company." Only a doctor could find that funny. He hugged me again and whispered, "Au revoir ami, je te souhaite la chance." I had no idea what he said, but I was punch drunk with the sound of the syllables and the warmth of his embrace. It was intellectually intoxicating and like a true addict, I wanted more. "You'd best be on your way." He said in a rough, strangled growl loosening his grip. "Go on, now, go earn your title…again."

The exam was just like passing the boards on Earth: there was multiple choice, essay, and an oral component where I was quizzed on psychiatric presentations of Andorians, treatment plans for various impairments, and evaluation measures. Although the questions were difficult, I finished feeling that it had gone reasonably well. The instructor informed me that my results would be provided to McCoy within two days and a copy would be on file should I want one. The woman curtly saluted at the end and I hastily returned the gesture. She obviously wasn't aware that I was a civilian, but I was sure the blue uniform may have confused her.

I exited the room with only 3 minutes to spare before my scheduled departure, so I ran to the lift to get to the transporter room to see Scotty, Jim, and Sulu waiting nervously by the console. Sulu was the first to shake my hand and wish me luck.

Jim stepped forward with his cocky smile and said, "Promise me that you will go out to a bar and get piss drunk at least once. You can't ignore tradition at the Academy. Promise?" He asked raising an eyebrow. I nodded and he slapped me hard on the shoulder.

Scotty still looked like death warmed over, but he smiled weakly and said, "I'm gonna miss ya' lass. Do us proud."

Sulu handed me a package with Russian writing on it. "Chekov said he was sorry he couldn't be here to say goodbye but he wishes you luck and asks if you wouldn't mind mailing that to his sister." I put the small package in my bag and he added, "Uhura said to watch out for the men, they are all pigs." He smiled because he was just the messenger.

I stepped up on the pad and watched them wave goodbye with brave faces until I could no longer see them.


	21. Chapter 21 In the Army Now

**Chapter 21- In the Army Now**

The USS Vico was a scientific research vessel that consisted of a mostly female crew- quite a switch from the Enterprise which was largely a brodeo of men. Even the Captain was a woman and although she was stern with her orders, she was also fair which I had to respect but she was no Jim to be sure. She was always to be addressed by her title or 'Sir' which I thought odd, after all this time Starfleet couldn't come up with gender neutral language? I passed my time helping out with various aspects of research projects that were going on: I measured the growth of plants, was used as a guinea pig for topical antiseptic trials and pain tolerance tests in which I was exposed to extreme cold and heat. I was secretly pleased when I was told that of all the participants that had been studied, I had the lowest tolerance for cold and the highest score for heat. I remembered shivering almost instantly when I was placed in a cold chamber and basking in the delicious heat of what amounted to a warming cabinet. At least I was unique in some way.

In between projects I fielded questions about the Enterprise, but mostly about Jim. Some I answered truthfully, most I dodged and a few I wondered how or why I would know such personal information about him. He may have been fast and loose, but it wasn't like he walked around nude or posted a list of his conquests for all to see. Some of the rumors made me laugh wildly such as the notion that he would force Sulu or Chekov to kneel on all fours so he could prop his feet up or that he was so fierce that he once strangled a Romulan to death with his utility belt.

Once the Vico took me as far as Neptune, a transport shuttle took me the rest of the way to Earth. It was strange looking out the windows at my home planet spinning slowly in the darkness. I noted Africa and the Middle East as I would old friends. I was dropped off in Boston and then to San Francisco by a shuttle similar to the one Pavel, McCoy and I took last time I was here. I arrived late at night and stood in a group of other individuals in the familiar gold, red, or blue shirts while we were assigned to rooms.

I listened to the names being rattled off by a man standing on a platform in the middle of the crowd. I was so tired from traveling that I almost missed my name. "Collins-McCoy, Morgan!" I raised my hand and the man looked at his clipboard with a raised eyebrow. "You are posted on the Enterprise. We will be expecting great things from you, then." I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it sounded very foreboding. Some people turned to look at me and whispered among themselves. I didn't know what that meant either, but I was too tired to care. I was in an entirely different area of the campus than I was when I landed the first time and stayed with Uhura, so naturally I was lost. I followed the others assuming we would be housed in the same general area at least. I found the dorm and eventually my assigned room.

If I thought the quarters I shared with Uhura and Pavel were tiny, this was miniscule in comparison. The room was just big enough for two cots, a shared bedside table, shared closet, one small desk crammed in by the door, and a very small bathroom. It was almost claustrophobic. My quarters on the Enterprise were easily six times bigger and far more palatial than this hole in the wall. From the looks of it, I had a roommate and they had already claimed the cot by the window because it was covered in clothing and personal items that had simply been dumped out and the empty bag left on the floor. I hoped that they were just in a hurry and not a slob. I showered quickly because it seemed there was a shortage of hot water and unpacked my meager belongings, placing my picture on my half of the small table by the bed and tried to get comfortable.

My PADD beeped to alert me to an incoming message. I picked it up curiously and opened the messages folder to see an unopened note from a Dr. L. McCoy-USS Enetrprise CMO. I opened it and read with a smile "I hope you got in safe, you should be there by now. It has been quiet so far (holds breath). The crew is all recovered from the disease Jim & co brought back thanks to you & Spock (you don't know how much it pains me to say that). Anyway, just thought I would send you some things that will help you stick to your story since Starfleet thinks we are hitched. Remember, they don't really know anything about you and it will be in your best interest to keep it that way. I am enjoying the book you got- very funny! Well, better go and give the staff the evil eye least they think I am getting soft. Take care. –McCoy"

I opened the attachment and found the picture of us at dinner as well as fact sheet with tidbits that I should know about him should I ever be questioned. He was born in Marietta, Georgia, his father is an internist and his mother is a pediatrician, his favorite color is blue, he once broke his arm when he fell out of a tree trying to fetch a neighbor's cat, he thought about becoming a street performer instead of a doctor just to piss off his parents, he learned to be ambidextrous in med school, hates fish and cheap whisky, and although he did room with Jim at the Academy he NEVER kissed him no matter what Jim said.

I quickly turned the PADD off when the door opened and a blonde with long, curly hair bounced in with an irrepressible smile. "Hello! You must be my roommate." She greeted a bit too cheerily. I could smell the alcohol across the room, but given how small it was that really wasn't much of an accomplishment. "Mary Bowman. You can call me Barbie." She extended her hand to me and I slowly shook it bewildered.

_Was she serious?! Did she know that 'Barbie' equated with brainless bimbo?_

"Morgan Collins." I replied quickly adding, "McCoy."

"Nice to meet you, McCoy." She sighed falling on her bed without bothering to move her clothes. I frowned when I realized that she thought 'McCoy' was my nickname. It sounded so strange… "So what do you do, McCoy?" She asked sleepily.

"I am…" _Was? Will be? _"a counselor on the Enterprise." I answered.

She bolted upright with a smile. "_The_ Enterprise? " She asked almost breathless. "So you know Montgomery Scott? I'm an engineer and it is my dream to someday work with him. He is legendary." She sighed like a school girl imagining her crush and I couldn't imagine her being an engineer. The women that worked for Scotty would eat her alive.

"Scotty is a brilliant man." I conceded with a laugh. "And funny too. He works miracles with one hand and throws back scotch with the other. His people love him although he can be difficult sometimes. He just demands the best of his engineers when it counts."

"Scotty?" She snickered. "So you probably work for Dr. Leonard McCoy in the medical service. I feel sorry for you."

I turned my head to look at her curiously. "Why do you say that?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "He is notorious throughout the galaxy for being a blowhard. Only masochists sign up for his placements. I once knew a nurse that worked for him and she said she cried every night for a year because he always yelled at her. What a dick." She paused and her eyes grew wide. "Wait…McCoy…McCoy…oh God."

I laughed to watch her put it all together. "Relax. I do not work for McCoy directly, I actually report to Spock because of the conflict of interest thing. I can tell you that he runs a very tight department, but he is not 10 feet tall and he only breathes fire in a metaphorical sense. He is hard on his interns, but look at what he does: people's lives are at stake and there is no room for error so he does expect the very best from them at all times- no excuses."

"I guess so." She shrugged. "So Spock is your boss? What is it like working with a Vulcan? I heard he never sleeps or blinks."

I laughed out loud at the ridiculous ideas everyone seemed to have about the crew. "He is not an android! He is Vulcan but he is human too." I chuckled. "I have a lot of personal respect for him, he has always been fair and logical yet very supportive. He taught me hand-to –hand combat." I said with some measure of pride.

"You didn't learn it when you went through basic?" She asked puzzled.

I paused considering what I should do and mentally smacked myself for walking right into that one. I would have to be more careful in the future. "I'm actually a civilian." I said slowly, "But after I met McCoy and a position opened on the ship I jumped at the chance and Captain Kirk helped me a little." It was close enough to the truth to be believable.

"Captain Kirk!" She squealed. "What is he like?!" She jumped from her bed and grabbed my arm with a dreamy look in her eye that I found a little odd. Good thing Jim wasn't there to see it- as if his ego needed any more inflation.

"He is interesting: a good man, smart, a little reckless but is devoted to his crew." I stammered. What could you possibly say about him that could live up to his larger than life legend that he seemed to have? In fact, it was a little eerie that the entire crew was so well known, it was like they were the galaxy's rock stars.

"It must be wonderful working for such a hero." She cooed. "He saved the planet!"

"Along with his crew." I corrected. "I wasn't on board when the whole Nero thing went down, but you know that Spock had a lot to do with that as did McCoy, Sulu, Scotty, and Chekov…Jim didn't do it all by himself and even he would tell you that. He is just a farm boy from Iowa."

"Isn't Chekov that whiz kid from Russia?" She inquired. "He's like 15 or something."

I picked up the picture to show her. "Pavel is 17, but I wouldn't consider him a kid. He is smart, but he has seen a lot in his short life that makes him wise beyond his years. He is a very kind, quiet man and I consider him a friend."

"He's kinda cute." She smirked rubbing her finger over his face. "Who's the scruffy homeless guy? He looks kind of menacing."

"_That_ is Dr. McCoy." I smiled. "That isn't a good picture of him, though. He was tired and wasn't feeling well. This one is better." I showed her the picture he sent me on the PADD.

"Oh la la." She commented. "He looks very handsome in his dress blues and all cleaned up. Still looks mean, though."

"Yeah, he hates formal dinners and Pavel ambushed us to take this picture. His hair is shorter now." I stared at the picture remembering exactly why that was and it made me a little sad.

She went back to her side of the room and pushed all of her clothes off her bed and onto the floor with one sweep and fell in. "Well, I am sure you see something in him, but from what I heard he eats babies and from the looks of him has acid for blood. Good luck with that."

I turned out the lights and looked at the picture on my PADD glowing softly in the darkness. It seemed everyone knew the Enterprise and her crew, but they only had vague notions and wild speculations to go on that reduced them to caricatures or blew them up into impossibly large superheroes. They didn't know them the way I did to see that the truth lie somewhere in between. They were just people who had the same fears and hopes as everyone else. The only difference was they had all been thrown together to pull off something truly amazing in one moment in time. After all, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them and the crew answered the call with courage and tenacity. Perhaps that was what made them legends and I missed them greatly.


	22. Chapter 22 Promises Made

**A/N: Big thanks to Ten'ou who read all 3 parts in 1 day. Wow. Also, M'eyari rightfully pointed out a mistake I had no choice but to perpetuate: Chekov should be 19 in this story, but I had already stated in Out of Time he was 17. Big mistake on my part- perhaps I will always see him as a fresh faced young'un. Cheers!**

**Chapter 22- Promises Made**

Boot camp was every bit as bad as I thought it would be and then some. My day started at 0500 with running until I almost puked, followed by hours of drills that were meant to toughen me up and make me a hardened officer- ruthless and efficient. Then I ran across campus on rubbery legs to wolf down slop before heading back to start classes on modern warfare tactics, maintaining morale, and logistics. At 1300 I schlepped back across campus for more abysmal chow that was no better than WWII M rations and back again for a full afternoon of combat training, officer conduct standards, weapons training, and history of military campaigns. The day ended at 1700 at the conclusion of yet another run. We had a scant 3 hours of free time before lights out at 2000. I cursed Jim Kirk every night as I fell asleep.

The only thing that made life bearable was my picture and the occasional recorded messages that were relayed across vast distances of space between the Enterprise and my PADD or the obnoxious screen on our wall that woke us up every morning with the damn Starfleet reverie blasting so loud you fell out of bed covering your ears. I was sore and angry most of the time because I hated conformity and of that plenty was expected. The only way I got through was to slip into my old habit of feeling nothing. I stood in line, looked straight past the person yelling in my face stoically, and thought only of getting back to the ship when my joints ached and I felt I was going to die if I ran one more mile. Had I been in my right mind I would have given them the finger and marched off to the nearest shuttle to go AWOL, but it was more than just me- I also had to think of the others and the Enterprise didn't produce quitters. I found that my affiliation with that particular ship and her crew gained me a certain popularity and respect among the other students, but the instructors saw it as an opportunity to expect far more from me than the others. I was beginning to understand what Spock must have felt because like an idiot I tried to reach their impossible standards because I was representing Jim and the rest of the best.

On weekends we were supposed to be free, but it never really worked that way since there was an expectation that you would work in a lab or help instructors with classes. It was not required, but expected nonetheless; to shirk this duty would be a poor reflection on your ability as an officer to suck it up and do whatever it takes. I had confirmed with Starfleet Medical that I had indeed passed my licensing exam and I could rightfully call myself "Dr. Collins-McCoy" since that was what the certificate said. As such, I worked with other students who aspired to be counselors and very quickly grew tired of answering questions about my crewmates. It seemed that was all anyone was interested in, so I thought it an excellent opportunity to impress upon them the importance of patient/doctor confidentiality by imposing a penalty of 20 pushups for each inappropriate question. To reinforce the crucial importance of this I made the punishment corporal so the entire class would have to suffer while the offender stood in the front of the room and watched his or her classmates grunt it out. It was a great little trick I picked up from 'Full Metal Jacket' and it worked beautifully; the asinine questions ceased after a few days and they began to take their professional responsibilities _very_ seriously. After all, being a ship's counselor could not be about voyeurism or your own morbid curiosity.

There were many surprises along the way and more often than not Bowman was the source of that. During the first week I came back to the room exhausted to find her with two random men. As I sat outside with nowhere to go, I tried to block out the noise and wonder how she had the physical strength and where in the hell she could have found them since she was in the same program I was and I didn't have time to say boo, let alone proposition anyone. During the second week I came back to see her watching a video of Jim. She had it on pause at just the right moment with Jim's blue eyes partially closed and his mouth parted ever so slightly as to suggest that he was rather enjoying himself. "Sorry." She said turning red. "I accidently opened it and he was just so….I just had to know what he was like."

_What did you hope to learn? Did you expect him to do a strip tease?_

I started the file from the beginning and she sat on her bed watching with rapt attention. She either didn't realize she was being rude or didn't care. The video looked like it was taken in the conference room. He hastily sat in front of the screen and adjusted it so only his face and neck were visible. He smiled grandly and said, "Hey Doc! I can call you that now, Bones told me the good news!" He looked around quickly and leaned in close so his blue eyes filled most of the screen. "You have to come back!" He whispered in a paranoid tone. "Get done and get your ass back on this ship pronto! Bones is fuckin' killing me! It is like he has reverted or something- he is the same mean bastard he was before you came and he is bustin' my balls and moping around here like his grandma died or something."

"Who is Bones?" Bowman asked giggling.

"McCoy. He said Jim calls him that because it is short for sawbones- what doctors on sailing ships were called because of amputations and whatnot." I didn't tell her the other version.

Jim sat back and looked toward the door when Pavel's voice called, "Captain, Dr. McCoy paged and said…" he paused and cleared his throat before obviously reading something he had written down, "if you do not get your ass down to sickbay in the next 10 minutes for your booster waxination he vill come up and…" he paused to again cough, "shove the hypo so far up your ass you vill gargle vith the medicine. He promises you vill not like it if he must come find you."

He again turned to the screen. "Do you see what I mean? To make it worse it has been slow and he has nothing better to do but to invent shit." He again turned to Pavel. "I am making a message for Collins. Come say hello!"

There was some shuffling and Pavel's face appeared on the screen, his wide blue eyes cheerful as always. "Privyet, Dr. Collins!" he smiled. I waved at him even though I knew it wasn't a live feed and he couldn't see me.

"Not only is he cute, but that accent is kinda sexy." Bowman purred.

"Well, he would tell you that the Russians invented sexy." I laughed.

There was more shuffling and Spock's calm measured tone. "Captain, Dr. McCoy is awaiting you on the bridge. I will assume command in your absence."

Jim looked alarmed. "He said 10 minutes! Tell him I'm not here!"

"Bullshit, Jim!" McCoy bellowed from the direction of the door. "Don't be such a pussy."

"Hey, Bones." Jim stammered trying to think of a way out. "I'm making a video for Collins. Wanna say hi?" McCoy leaned in close to the monitor and scowled but said nothing.

"Jesus!" Bowman cringed shying away from the screen. "What a psycho!"

"He isn't psychotic." I coolly retorted. "I did his psych eval. He has OCD tendencies, but he isn't loony. Believe me, that is just his default facial expression."

I was surprised to see Sulu's face appear. "Hey, Dr. Collins!" He greeted with his usual warm and endearing smile. "Hope you are doing well. I hope you are putting all your classmates in weapons training to shame!"

"That's Sulu." I provided. "He's the pilot and probably the most sane person on the ship. I don't know how he does it, but the man is a god to have so much patience. He taught me and Chekov how to fence."

"Goddamn it, quit stalling!" McCoy growled. Jim cried out and Sulu moved out of the way just in time to see Jim shaking his head vigorously with a pained expression while he rubbed his neck. McCoy saw his display and frowned. "At least I didn't stab you in the dick like you did me, asshole."

"I didn't!" Jim whined. "And I told you I was sorry!"

"Does he always talk like that to his superior officers?" She gasped.

I shrugged. "Pretty much. He calls Spock…"

"What are you looking at you green blooded bastard?" He mumbled toward the door.

"What's going on in here?" Came Uhura's lovely voice. Her dark hair spilled down to the table as she leaned in for a look. "Hey! Is this for Collins? Hey you!" She smiled and it was beautiful as always. "I hope Sulu had the _burals _to give you my message."

"I did!" Sulu protested off camera with a laugh.

"I mean it," she continued, "the guys in the bars are horny idiots who will do or say anything to get at your chocha. Don't do it, girl. Trust me, kicking them out in the morning isn't worth the hassle."

"Says you." Bowman huffed.

"Remember your promise! You promised me, Collins!" Jim smiled. He then looked around the room confused. "Who's manning the bridge?"

McCoy pushed Uhura out of the way and growled, "If he told you to go to a bar and get into a fight, don't listen to him. You will find more trouble than you were looking for."

"You promised!" Jim yelled from somewhere to the left.

McCoy narrowed his eyes at the camera. "Don't. Do. It." He ground out with more than enough emphasis to make his intentions clear.

Jim was laughing hysterically. "As your Captain I order you!"

"Give it a rest, Jim." McCoy declared standing up looking to the left. All I could see was Spock's hand, McCoy's waist and groin, and an arm covered in gold which could have been either Chekov or Sulu. "She hasn't graduated yet, therefore she doesn't have to do a damn thing you tell her."

"Gentlemen, if I may remind you that we have a mission to accomplish and a ship to run." Spock said tersely. "Perhaps you can say your goodbyes and we can all return to our stations before we drift into an asteroid or perhaps a black hole will open against staggering statistical odds. To stand here and delay is illogical."

McCoy looked into the screen and pointed to the direction Jim's voice had come from. "He is a damn living, breathing Improbability Drive." I laughed. He had been reading the book and rightfully equated Jim with the machine that generated a field in which anything, no matter how improbable, could exist.

As bodies filed past, Spock ducked to look into the screen. With his usual stern expression he nodded once and then reached up to end the transmission. Bowman probably didn't catch the slight curl at the corner of his mouth that said hello and goodbye at the same time. "That is the Enterprise?" She asked in awe. "I imagined it to be…I don't know, all stern and stuff."

"Jim likes to keep things loose and informal." I looked at the blank screen and sighed, "Those are my boys. Well, all except Scotty. He more or less lives in the engine rooms."

"No place I'd rather be." She said with determination.

Seeing friendly faces made it easier to get through the third week although Bowman didn't. I was locked out three times and once it was a woman leaving with a bashful smile. I didn't really care. I had always been a live and let live kind of person that believed there were far worse evils in the world than two girls kissing, but I was hacked about being locked out when I had an exam the next day. The room was a mess as usual and the next morning we were inspected while out on drills. When we returned at the end of a particularly long and grueling day, a notice had been posted on our door that we had been assigned to an extra hour of drills to start at 0400. I wanted to kill her. Of all the times I had to share with Uhura, Pavel, McCoy, and Spock it had never been this difficult or irritating.

I don't know why I allowed her to talk me into her brilliant plan to make it all up to me. "I'm really sorry," she said balefully, "Come out with me this weekend and I will buy you a drink. All you have been doing is sitting around here with your nose in a PADD. You need to go out and have some fun, even your Captain ordered it!" When I looked at her skeptically she begged, "Please? Come on, what's the worst that can happen?" Famous last words.


	23. Chapter 23 Promises Kept

**Chapter 23- Promises Kept**

I had to wait until I finished with my shift at the clinic before I could catch up with Bowman so she could keep her promise. I was dog tired and a little depressed. A young medical student had come in upset that he had lost a patient. I swapped him for my 1200 anxiety disorder with another student because he seemed particularly distressed and I sadly had some expertise in the area. I sat with him the entire afternoon, quietly listening and offering soft, soothing assurances to pull him back from the brink. He was in emergency medicine and this was his first casualty. Although he knew it was a certainty, there was something about this patient that particularly bothered him; she was young and there was no indication that she was at risk, but she had developed a brain hemorrhage that he did not check for and this was the ultimate cause of her demise. Naturally he questioned his ability as a physician and his very competency as a human being. It was all eerily familiar, but I had to convince him that life did go on and entreated him to focus not on the one who did die, but the number that would if he gave up practicing medicine. In the end he was calmer, but after Meyers I took nothing for granted and made him promise he would call me if he needed to.

I worried about him even as I walked with Bowman to the dive bar she had picked out just off campus. The place was dimly lit and dingy, but despite this it was relatively busy. Most people in attendance wore black leather and I would have said it was a biker bar except there were no motorcycles parked in neat rows outside. One would have to question the integrity of the place on name alone; above the door outside "Road Kill" was painted in red on a plank. I thought it best not to order any food although I was starving and instead stuck to a steady diet of Bailey's while I watched Bowman dance from table to table chatting with just about anyone that caught her eye. I sat by myself at the far end of the bar and listened to a song paradoxically called "Transsexual Lesbian" sung in first person by a very rough and raw male voice scream down from the ceiling. I sipped on my watered down drink and pondered the riddle as I kept an eye on Bowman out of the corner of my eye. I didn't like to think of myself as prejudiced, but I did have enough common sense to know that someone as beautiful and unguarded as Bowman in this bar was like tossing a steak into a lion's den. I smirked when I thought of my brother who owned a Harley- he was certainly no predator, but not everyone has the best intentions in mind and it didn't help that she was egging them on.

I almost groaned when a big burly guy sat down next to me. He smelled like sweat and gasoline. "Hey, purdy. What's a military woman doin' in a place like this?" His voice was deeply southern in a way McCoy's wasn't. I did sort of stick out like a sore thumb in my blue Starfleet uniform- now with a logo!

"Having a drink my roommate owed me." I answered simply.

"Let's see…blue. That science?" He guessed. He was irritating; he reminded me of a blown up Barney Fife or an extra from 'Deliverance.'

"And medical." I sighed. I didn't know why I was wasting my time with him. I needed more alcohol. Where the hell was Bowman?

"'ell I'll be." He chuckled. "If you are a doctor, I got an ache you could fix."

I looked at him and smiled tersely. "I doubt it, but I could cause you some if that is what you are looking for." His face fell and I felt bad for being so harsh. I patted his beefy hand and added, "Look, I am sure you are a really nice guy, but I am married so I am not really on the market." It was at least a half truth and a terribly convenient one. It was that or tell him I was gay, but I wasn't sure how well that would go over in a place like this.

He gracefully ducked out to continue his hunt elsewhere and left me there thinking I was getting to old for this scene. I was better suited to a coffee shop where I could debate others in stimulating conversations; the kind of places you found on college campuses where old, grey haired professors sat with students and talked about life, truth, and beauty without seeming out of place. I doubted anyone here had read Dostoevsky, Sartre, or Nietzsche. They had probably never admired a painting by Van Gogh or felt moved by Mozart or Beethoven. It was only when I thought of these things that I was filled with a sense of curiosity that I would know of these things either. No one including myself could have predicted at the start of my life that I would have turned out as I have, time travel notwithstanding.

I was distracted by Bowman's screech. I looked across the bar to see her wrenching her arm away from a scruffy looking man. "Leave me alone, you creep!" She howled. I watched her over the top of my glass and scanned the room to see if any of the men were chivalrous enough to step up and defend a lady, but it seemed they were in the same group. I looked at the grizzled bartender and he only shrugged while he dried a glass with a dirty towel. He knew better than to get involved. I watched as the lecherous man bent down to run his greasy hand up her thigh under her skirt. She screamed in disgust and slapped him away as the other men laughed. The man took offense and slapped her across the face.

Although I knew it was suicide, something in me snapped the moment his hand came in contact with her face and I rose to my feet to make way to her. "Come on, let's go." I mumbled into her ear pushing her toward the door.

"McCoy!" She slurred rubbing her reddened face. "Not so hard. You make me fall down." She began giggling uncontrollably and I rolled my eyes. I didn't have time to argue with her, we were standing in a circle of sharks and we had to get out as soon as possible before something really bad happened.

"Let her go," the man sneered, "she likes it rough, don't ya' baby?" He reached out his hand and grabbed a handful of her blonde curls.

"Stop, you're hurting me." She cried painfully twisting her head in his direction to relieve the pressure on her scalp.

"You heard her." I said in a low tone. "Let her go."

The man looked to me with an ugly smirk. "Or what, sweetheart? You gonna call in your Navy buddies to kick our asses?" He leaned in close and his breath was sickening. "Or are you gonna do it all by your little self?" He stuck out his tongue and licked the side of my face and I recoiled in disgust. The man laughed and grabbed my upper arm roughly. "Maybe you both like it rough. Whadda ya say we find out?"

"You go first." I stated kicking him hard in the groin with my military boot. He hit the ground like a ton of bricks, wheezing and pale and I secretly thanked Spock for his training. I pulled Bowman down into a crouch to avoid the flying fists overhead and we duck walked toward the door covering our heads from shards of glass that were propelled through the air. Just my luck, one jagged piece caught me in the temple and I felt hot liquid run down the side of my face, but I yelled at Bowman to keep going. When we stood up, I looked back at the mêlée that had broken out in horror. The door opened and my eyes went wide to see my warfare tactics instructor with a very mean look on his face. I turned back for a split second to look for Bowman and caught a punch that I was sure broke my nose. The pain was blinding and I literally saw stars out of my watering eyes. I instinctively covered it in a futile effort to mitigate the pain and felt blood seep through my fingers and drip to the floor.

"What in the blue hell are you two doing here?" He bellowed like a drill sergeant. He grabbed us by the shirts and drug us across campus to the medical center lecturing the whole way about our Captains being notified and notes placed in our file. I stumbled along behind trying my best not to pass out. Surely this was not what Jim had in mind and I just knew I was going to catch hell from McCoy if he found out.

At the medical center, my photograph was taken and what a pretty picture it made: my face was bloody and I had the beginnings of a nice shiner under my right eye. It looked like my face had gone through a windshield in a car accident. Bowman was drunk, but otherwise ok so she was sent back to the dorm escorted by a security cadet. I was placed in an exam room that was completely white and a little cold. I shivered and squinted against the bright lights overhead until a medical student saw to me. She was polite but efficient, she surely had seen most everything and I was no exception. I consented to her fixing my broken nose, but I had to get back to Bowman because she was too intoxicated to be left alone. The woman passed a device over my nose and I cringed and gripped the sides of the bed as hard as I could. "This might hurt a little." She said in a bored tone well after she had started. I wasn't sure what hurt worse, the moment it was broken or feeling the shards realign under my skin and knit back together. Even McCoy wouldn't have been that cruel unless it was an emergency.

It was early in the morning when I was discharged and I went back to the room to find Bowman with her face in the toilet. I squatted in the shower and held her hair out of the way and sighed wondering how in the hell I got myself into this. Bowman's stomach finally settled enough to let her sleep when the sun came up and I was looking forward to it myself, but as I was cleaning the blood from my face the screen in the main room beeped. I turned it on to see an older woman with her hair in a bun and a very stern look on her face as though she were a school principal on the left side of the screen while an equally peeved looking Jim was on the right. "I trust you know what this is about." She croaked in a hateful tone. "You have been reported to Academic Affairs for fighting in a bar last night while in uniform. May I remind you that you are a representative of Starfleet and your actions reflect not only on yourself but on the organization as well. Captain Kirk has been notified of your actions and will take appropriate disciplinary measures."

Jim stiffly nodded and in a low determined tone said, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Admiral. Rest assured that Dr. Collins-McCoy will be dealt with." The two saluted each other and her image disappeared when she signed off while Jim's enlarged to fill the screen. "Jim, I wasn't fighting! I swear I…" I stammered.

His piercing blue eyes were freighting in their intensity and I really thought he was angry with me until his harsh features slowly melted into the more familiar smile and he began laughing with mirth twinkling in his eyes. "You sure as hell weren't kissing anyone unless you were trying to mate with a Klingon!" He exclaimed pointing at the screen to no doubt indicate my bruised face. "That is fucking awesome! Is that a shiner you have going there?" He asked mockingly drawing a half circle under his own eye.

Behind me Bowman stirred and asked in slurred tone, "Is that Kirk?"

Jim looked toward her and smirked when she saluted him from her bed. He gave her his cocky 'picking up chicks' smile and returned a lazy salute. She sighed happily and went back to sleep. I shook my head. "So what are you going to do to me?" I asked wiping the rest of the blood from my head.

He looked at me and laughed a little too hard. "Nothing for now, but I will let you know when I want to call it in." Somehow that was worse. I had heard about the types of things Jim did to those that were unfortunate enough to be in his debt and it usually involved humiliation, a dirty job, or both.

"I got your message." I chuckled. "So McCoy is having some issues?"

Jim rolled his eyes and sighed. "He is driving me bat shit with his moping and sourpuss attitude. You need to come back because you are like Prozac. Even Chekov has been quieter than usual. He doesn't give a damn when I tease him, it just isn't fun anymore."

"I thought you guys were in deep space, how are we talking?" I asked quizzically.

He glanced away and bit his lip. "We came back within range because somebody had some business to attend to." He answered cryptically. I thought hard about it but couldn't imagine what he was getting at and it was clear that was all he was going to say at the moment. "Collins, officially I am disappointed in your conduct and you will be disciplined upon your return. Unofficially I am stoked with your moxy and you do us proud by reminding those pussies what we on the Enterprise are made of! But, it is damn early and I am tired. Kirk outie."

The screen went black and I smiled. It was nice to see and talk with him in real time even if the circumstances were not ideal. Just as I was turning to go back to the bathroom, the screen beeped again. This time, McCoy's tense face greeted me. He was deeply scowling and his lips were pursed together in agitated displeasure. He was in his quarters and it looked like he had just gotten out of bed. I swallowed as he held up a copy of the photograph that was taken at the medical center. "Mind telling me what the hell this is about?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"How did you get that?" I gasped. Good news never seemed to travel faster than bad.

He smirked sarcastically and dryly said, "Domestic partners, remember?" Damn Jim! "But besides that I got it as the CMO to add to your medical file. I would have found out either way. Now spill your guts, woman."

I jerked my thumb toward Bowman and said, "I was trying to get her out of trouble. I swear I wasn't spoiling for a fight, but no one else was sticking up for her. I didn't plan on hurting anyone, but this grease monkey licked my face and grabbed me so I kicked him in the balls and then all hell broke loose."

Bowman sat up and sleepily asked, "Who are you talking to?" McCoy's narrowed laser like eyes shifted to her and she sunk back into the bed and pulled the covers up to her eyes and peered fearfully at him.

"Bowman, meet Dr. McCoy. McCoy, my roommate." I introduced.

McCoy said nothing at first and she sunk deeper into the bed as though the weight of his glare were a tangible force. "Listen up, sweetheart." He muttered in a low and menacing tone. "Your roommate is an integral part of this ship. If you do anything to endanger her again I will come down there myself and stick my size 10 combat boot straight up your pretty little ass until I can lace them up through your mouth. Don't think taking off will help because I will hunt you down no matter where you are or what ship you are on. I will find you and she will tell you that the longer I have to wait the worse it is when I do find you. Am I understood?"

"Aye, Sir!" She barked in a shaky voice.

"Alright then." He grumbled looking her over. "You look like hell. Drink plenty of water and take a couple aspirin if you need to, but stay in bed today and get some sleep."

"Aye, Sir." She sheepishly replied covering herself completely up to get away from the bad man.

I looked at him and shook my head with an expression that read '_You are so mean!_'

He picked it up and smiled as if to reply '_Guilty as charged, but it had to be done. Are you ok?_'

I smiled faintly. _'I will be.'_

He nodded. _'I am exhausted.'_

'_Me too. Goodnight.' _I silently said.

His last expression before he ended the transmission also said goodnight, but there was an added sense of sweetness to it and I smiled even though my bruised lip hurt. We probably could have had the entire conversation by well nuanced facial expressions, but then he couldn't have bitched out Bowman and I couldn't deny him that small pleasure. I knew there was no way now that I could convince her that he wasn't the spawn of Satan even though I knew better.

I had just laid down when I got yet another message. I was all for chatting with my crewmates, but this was getting ridiculous. The ship ran on Earth time so surely they knew it was still early. When I answered it, it was the med student I saw the day before. He said he had been having nightmares in which the woman that had died was asking him why and he had no answer for her. He sounded like he was in acute distress and it quickly became obvious that I couldn't resolve it remotely, so I got him to agree to meet me in the park across from the medical center.

I quickly dressed and made my way across the dewy grass, the cold dampness clung to my pant legs making me shiver until I reached the park. I sat on a bench and waited for what seemed an inordinate amount of time. I was beginning to worry when I finally spotted a figure slowly making it's way toward me in a shuffle. When I realized it was him, I rose to meet him halfway. He apologized profusely for bothering me and only paused momentarily to notice that my appearance had changed since the last time we had met. I assured him that I was glad he contacted me because I was. Even though it meant I had to forego sleep for a few more hours, I did make him promise and keeping my end of the bargain was well worth the investment if I could help him through this dark period in his life so he could continue his badly needed skill despite a setback. There was so much suffering in the world that we needed every person we could get to help alleviate it, including the ones that get disillusioned and lost along the way. I walked with him to the main clinic where he could get checked in and observed for more intense treatment. Although it would be a long and dark journey, I had confidence that he would come out on the other side and see the sun again, giving him enough courage to again pick up his weapon and continue fighting for those that couldn't.


	24. Chapter 24 Pomp and Circumstance

**A/N: I have already decided that since this is the last go around for Collins and the crew I could not in good conscience put a predetermined limit on the length (as it worked so well last time). It will be over when the fat lady (me) sings. Bonus points to anyone who cares to name the tunes- no using the Google! I will be happy to provide hints to anyone that cares to engage in this pointless exercise. Love the reviews! Cheers!**

**Chapter 24- Pomp and Circumstance**

By week four I was settling into the rhythm of things and was even starting to enjoy my class of fresh faced cadets who now were asking relevant and intelligent questions about ethics and the finer nuances of working with a range of issues and patients. It reminded me of why I got into the field in the first place. While their enthusiasm and optimism was refreshing, I would have been remiss in my duties if I didn't remind them that they couldn't save everyone and for the first time since it happened, I found the courage to tell others about Meyers. It was still painful to think about, but if I could impart his cautionary tale I could at least give his death some meaning.

Jim and the crew checked in from time to time, usually by direct link and it was always nice to see them on the bridge just as I would if I were there. It was funny to think that it was now my huge head on the view screen on the bridge instead of a Romulan. McCoy continued to send me short messages via PADD and I thought it at least a little strange that he was never on screen. Granted he was always in sickbay, but I would have thought he could have managed to make it to the bridge. Even Scotty made time to be there to Bowman's delight.

"Awrite, lass!" He waved cheerily standing next to Spock at his station. "Ah heard ya got in a rammie! Ah hope he looks wose'n ya!"

Spock looked sideways at him and Jim shook his head and mused, "I hope Starfleet will come out with that Universal Translator thingy soon."

"Me too." Chekov agreed. "Then I can only speak Russian and you von't make jokes about me anymore."

"Oh, that won't change." Jim promised with a decisive nod. "If not your pronunciation then something else."

I had promised Bowman that I would arrange for her to speak with Scotty if from that point on she promised to keep her gear in order and have a little courtesy regarding her bringing strays home, and Scotty saw no harm in indulging a pretty, young cadet. Uhura felt a little differently about the situation, though. They mostly chatted about warp core theory and transporter tweaks, but when Bowman laid on the hero worship a little too thick the screen abruptly went blank. A few minutes later, another link was established with Uhura on screen giving a disingenuous smile and a curt, "Sorry about that." Jim looked at her in amazement and shook his head. Even Spock was smirking as he randomly pushed buttons at his station trying to look busy.

"What a bitch." Bowman muttered as she stormed out. Uhura's eyes grew very dark as she watched her go.

I shrugged. "It was pretty heavy handed, Uhura." I chuckled. "I know you are the absolute best and you are way too good to 'accidently' lose a feed."

She smiled and her dark hair fell over her shoulder. "Even the best of us slip now and again." I laughed with her.

"Uh, Doc?" Scotty interjected. "Seein' as how that was a mite more brutal than I was expectin' do ya think ya can do me a wee favor?" He asked hopefully wiggling his fingers in anticipation.

"Brutal?" I laughed. "You talked to her for four minutes, try living with her! I suppose I do owe you because now she may keep her ducks in a row and prevent me from having to do an extra hour of drills every day. Let me guess, you want me to pick up some Scotch?"

"Aye!" He declared almost licking his lips. "Ah am runnin' a wee bit low."

"You got it, Scotty." I smiled. It was the least I could do. "Where has McCoy been?" I asked no one in particular. "I get messages from him, but I haven't seen him since last week." Like a ping pong ball, nervous glances bounced off the members of the crew back and forth until Jim finally ended it by saying, "He's good."

I looked suspiciously at them and crossed my arms. "What is wrong with him? Is he sick or hurt or something? What are you hiding? As his domestic partner I have a right to know these things."

"Nothing, I swear, Collins." Jim laughed. "You know him- this isn't really his thing." He had a point. He loved cameras almost as much as transporters. "He has mostly been in sickbay reading the PADD you got him. None of us have seen him in awhile."

I wasn't thoroughly convinced, but it did make sense. After they signed off, I sat on my cot and read through some of his old messages. "This was funny: 'He had found a Nutri-Matic machine which had provided him with a plastic cup filled with a liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.' This Adams guy knew about replicators before they even existed!" I sorted through music files he sent and listened to a few clips. "Cast in this unlikely role, ill-equipped to act, with insufficient tact. One must put up barriers, to keep oneself intact." He had been busy sifting through the computer's vast music library to find just the right songs from the era in which I lived. "Won't you come see about me. I'll be alone, dancing- you know it baby. Tell me your troubles and doubts, giving me everything inside and out. Love's strange- so real in the dark. Think of the tender things that we were working on." That one always made me happy, but it was especially sweet coming from him.

I didn't hear from him again until the end of week 5 when he sent a short message and another song. "Hope all is well, I am sure you are doing fine. Will see you soon. 'A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.' –Shakespeare (Henry IV)." I imagined the words with his accent and I read it over and again until I could hear his voice in my mind. With any luck, I would be back on the Enterprise in three weeks or so depending on where exactly they were. I guess to McCoy soon was relative. The song was a hauntingly beautiful melody I had only heard a few times before. "Sometimes when this place gets kinda empty, the sound of the breath fades with the light. I think about the loveless fascination under the Milky Way tonight." It was sad because I knew what he was getting at and he was nowhere near the Milky Way. I had to admit that as much of an aggravation he was, I missed him perhaps just a little more than the others. Of course I could have rationalized it as we worked so closely together every day that it would only be natural, but it was more than that.

I didn't hear from him again. I couldn't believe I had actually made it through and I looked forward to graduation as an Ensign as I put on my blue dress uniform I was issued. I chuckled as I thought that Pavel no longer outranked me, as if he ever felt he did… The collar was tight and itchy and I now knew why McCoy hated wearing his. By some miracle Bowman managed to get ready on time and together we walked to the parade grounds where the stands were already beginning to fill with spectators.

It was a bright, sunny day with just a hint of a breeze from the bay bringing a salty smell to the area. Bowman scanned the stands for her family and friends and located them with an enthusiastic wave. When we were ordered to fall in, I extended my hand to congratulate her, but she saluted. I smiled and returned the gesture thinking I would probably never get used to that. The newly minted officers were divided by specialty, so I went to the blue section while she walked ahead to red. We were given our placements and reminded to turn to the Grandstand and salute the Admirals as we marched past. I was near the middle of the blue section as we were arranged by class standing and I ended up getting high marks in weapons and combat training thanks to Sulu and Spock giving me a head start, and I did equally well in officer standards because I found many parallels between what was expected from a Starfleet officer and what was required by my profession. I passed the rest of the courses, but not with any stellar grades and that was fine with me considering I was thrown in with no real prior knowledge of military life. The point was I did it.

I looked over the stands and thought about all my other graduations that were attended by no one but Officer Mike. I wondered what he would think if he knew, but he was long gone and there was not one familiar face in the crowd. I marched in time with everyone else and consoled myself with the knowledge that Jim and the others would have been there if they could, but business was business. The large brass band played a cheerful tune while the sun glinted off the instruments. I remembered to salute the Grandstand full of Admirals with shiny decorations on their uniforms and looked ahead again until I reached the end of the field where red and gold uniforms had already gathered waiting on the blues. When the last row reached the finish line everyone began cheering and whistling as the Admirals said, "Congratulations to the new Starfleet Officers. May you all go forth and serve with honor, courage, and integrity to further the Federation's commitment to peace and prosperity for all."

The crowd of officers and spectators streamed toward each other and clashed as each looked for their friends and family. I hung back watching the mingled madness knowing no one would be looking for me. After a few minutes I took one last look at the parade grounds and slowly walked off alone toward the dorm hoping that Jim had sent instructions on where to hitch a ride home on the crazy intergalactic ferry system. Maybe if I was lucky there would be a message from them that would make me smile again. I stopped short when someone behind me grabbed my arm. I turned and my jaw dropped.

McCoy stood in the bright sun and saluted me smartly. "Ensign Collins-McCoy." He greeted with a smile. When I just stood there dumbfounded he chuckled and leaned in to whisper, "This is the part where you salute me and say, 'Dr. McCoy.'" I managed to salute him, but couldn't speak- I was convinced he was a mirage.

He playfully waved his hand in front of my eyes as though he were checking my vision and in my shock and joy I pulled him into a tight, enthusiastic hug. I finally choked, "But how…I thought…" as I released him and held my hands on his shoulders still regarding him with disbelief.

He gave an easy laugh and his eyes sparkled and refracted in the light. "I had a lot of time coming and it was slow, so I convinced Jim to let me off the ship for a spell." He looked around and squinted against the glare of the light off the glass and steel buildings. "Besides, someone had to come to your graduation." When all I could manage was a glowing smile, he chuckled and replied, "My pleasure, darlin'."

We walked together to the dorms. "Thanks for all those messages." I smiled, "They really helped when I was feeling down and reminded me what this was all for."

He grumbled and waved me off dismissively. "It was nothin'." He was no better at taking a compliment than he was when I first met him. "Hey, you hungry? I'll bet you are starving if they still serve the same slop they did when I was here. There is a place called Backwater Bayou just off the bay. They serve Cajun Creole and probably the closest thing to southern grub you can get here. The red beans and rice was pretty decent as I remember." The more he talked the more his southern drawl came out and I grinned broadly at the slip. The more he thought about the food from his home the more he sounded like a true country boy.

"As that is a heritage we both can appreciate, I am definitely down for some good cooking. Bring on the fried okra and cornbread!" I replied excitedly. My mouth was watering at the thought of the simple yet oh so tasty food my great-grandma used to make for me as a child when I visited her, but I had to get out of my hot and scratchy uniform first, so we went back to the room where McCoy stretched out on my cot while he glared at the slight disarray Bowman had left on her side of the room. I just knew his OCD was raging and he was suppressing the urge to clean.

"So, is this how you and Jim lived for three years?" I asked while removing a clean uniform from the closet.

He glanced around the tin can of accommodations and sighed, "Yep. Believe it or not."

"I can't actually." I yelled from the bathroom. "Seriously, 6 weeks was far too long for me. I don't know how you guys didn't kill each other let alone work on the same ship."

I peeked around the door to see him laying on his back looking at the picture he gave me. "After awhile you just work it out or stop giving a damn." He mumbled. "At least that was what we did. I just gave up all hope he would ever evolve beyond a Neanderthal, but it wasn't like I didn't get on his nerves either. Toward the end we were like two old married folks and I couldn't leave him behind, so I took him with me. Of course all the alcohol we drank greased the wheels a bit."

The door to the room opened and I heard Bowman's voice gasp, "Hey! Oh….oh God…" I emerged from the bathroom to see her pale and wide eyed staring at McCoy as though he were the boogeyman. He sat up and squinted slightly at her.

"We were just leaving." I smiled pulling on McCoy's arm for him to stand. "But I told you he wasn't 10 feet tall. See? He is just a mere mortal."

He glanced at me with a frown and returned his gaze to her to give her a quick salute. "Congratulations. You look better than you did last time I saw you."

She stood tall and retuned the gesture with just a little too much gusto and replied, "Thank you, Sir!"

He flinched just a little and scowled. "Yeah, yeah. At ease and whatever." He lazily waved his hand in her direction. It was only then that I realized that the only two people I had ever seen saluted on the ship were Jim and Spock and even they were very lax about it.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight, McCoy?" I asked turning to him with an evil grin. He picked up on my true intention and slyly said, "I just got in a few hours ago, so I haven't had a chance to make arrangements."

"Why don't you stay here?" I offered graciously. The look on Bowman's face was worth all the credits in the Universe and I knew I was being cruel but for all I had to put up with over the past 6 weeks: all the long nights in the hall because I had been locked out, all the extra drills, getting me in trouble with the administration and putting me in Jim's service- it all required one very well turned steak to the heart and I could think of nothing better than the threat of her staying in the same small quarters with McCoy.

"Well that is mighty nice of you, I think I will." He drawled looking in her direction.

She watched nervously as we left. When we sat down at the restaurant that was hobbled together to look like a shack I assured McCoy that she would be packed and gone by the time we got back. The atmosphere was very relaxed and we enjoyed zydeco and blues music played by a live band in the land of sweet tea, grits, blackened catfish, and the best bread pudding I had in a long time. We laughed and traded stories about peanut butter and banana sandwiches, spicy gumbo, fried green tomatoes, and homemade alcohol until it was late.

"We should go." He said regrettably when we were the only ones left. "We have to get an early start."

"Where are we leaving from?" I asked finishing my tea.

He sighed and frowned, immediately dampening the mood. "Collins, I didn't come here just for your graduation although I am glad I did." He burned a hole into the cypress wood table before he went on. "After you left I got a message from Jocelyn and she wanted to work out some kind of deal once and for all." He let his head fall into his hands wearily. "Now I don't know what the hell she has in mind, but I will be damned if I am going to do this from space because she will not hesitate to fuck me over the first chance she gets. Everything with her is guerilla warfare. So this is it. The end. The last time I will negotiate with her." He stated emphatically.

I twisted in my chair and stirred the remaining ice in my glass with the straw. "I hope it turns out well for you." I sincerely did for all involved. At the very least his daughter deserved some kind of stability whether he was to be in her life or not at all. To constantly be torn between the two was unfair and psychologically damaging at such a young age. "So am I to meet you somewhere or will I just see you back on the ship?"

He looked up at me with such a heartbreaking expression I was startled. "I was hoping you would go with me." He said just barely audible over the music. "This may be the one time that I really need you. I don't know what is going to happen or if I will ever see my baby girl again, but I think I could handle it better if you were there."

So that was the true reason for the Enterprise's sudden about face and this was the 'business' that Jim alluded to. And for the weeks that I never saw McCoy and only received text messages he had been traveling back to Earth. He wasn't on board at all when I last talked to the crew. No wonder they all looked so nervous when I inquired about his absence. And Jim, cunning as ever, cleverly told enough of a half truth so as to make it fly just under my lie detector radar. He wasn't being malicious, he did it to protect his friend I actually admired him for that.

I reached across the table in the dim, hazy blue light that filled the room to take his hand and nod. "Of course I will go with you." Jim protected him all the way there, now it was up to me to see him home.


	25. Chapter 25 Belle of the Ball

**Chapter 25- Belle of the Ball**

I had only been in the Deep South once and that was for a conference in New Orleans, but I was only there for two days and I certainly didn't remember the air being so humid you felt as though you were drowning with every breath. It was so hot and humid I thought it must be what Spock's bathroom felt like after a hot shower when he had the heat cranked up. To make it worse there was absolutely no breeze. The air was still and suffocating, but the scenery was simply beautiful. We took a shuttle from San Francisco to Atlanta and from there hitched a ride from a citizen who immediately recognized McCoy while we were standing outside of the terminal.

"You were on that ship that saved the Earth! I remember seeing you on the news." He exclaimed excitedly. "Honey, look! It is the doctor from Kirk's ship!" The man's wife smiled and McCoy quietly hung his head and hoped no one else would notice him. "C'mon son, hop in. Really, it's no bother, it's the least we can do for a member of Starfleet and the man that saved our lives. Where y'all headed?" I would have thought it a stupid cliché had I not actually found myself in the back of a modern pickup truck with McCoy zipping down a country road with the wind whipping our hair into an unruly mess. All that was missing was a bale of hay, a shotgun, and a hound dog.

He told me on the shuttle that he had contacted his sister and she insisted we stay at her house. He hadn't seen her since he signed up and he was a little nervous. Not that he would talk at any great length about it, but from what I gathered the younger sister was the only one who was even mildly supportive of him- the rest of his family more or less considered him dead and hadn't spoken to him in years. McCoy tapped on the window and the truck came to a stop so we could jump out. As he slung his bag over his shoulder he turned to give a small wave to the driver who saluted him. McCoy turned back around and ignored it with a grimace.

We paused and looked down a very long lane lined with willow trees that hung heavy with moss. To the right was a grove of fruit trees and to the left were fields planted with various vegetables. At the end of the lane was a large, white, two story plantation style mansion with beautiful porches on both levels. I stood there sweating in the impossibly hot sun admiring it with a sense of awe. "This is where you grew up?" I sighed.

He looked at me and gave a low chuckle. "Yep. I was born here and lived here until I went off to college. My sister and her family live here now, my parents moved a little further North into a smaller place. At least that is what she tells me."

We ambled at a slow pace toward the house enjoying the shade the trees provided. "I can see why you loved it here, it is beautiful." I complimented. He smiled softly and readjusted his bag over his shoulder. "So where did you break your arm getting the cat?" I asked looking around.

He laughed at the memory. "So you read it. That was down a ways." He answered gesturing to his left. "Mrs. Craig was an old widow that had a whole damn house full of cats and one got out. She didn't have any kids of her own, so my father sent me down the road to her place to climb this huge tree and get the stupid thing down."

"Did you succeed?" I asked just knowing how obstinate cats could be.

"Oh yeah, I got it alright." He scoffed. "I got it and we both came tumbling out of the tree. The little bastard hissed and scratched at me all the way down and then ran off into the bushes while I lay there on the ground bleeding and broken. That cat kicked my ass." We were only a few feet from the house when he paused and turned to quietly whisper, "I don't know how things are now, but I just wanted you to know that they might seem a little…funny about certain things. I'm not saying it is right, but the rest of my family is really hung up on bloodlines and whatnot."

I immediately caught his drift. "So I shouldn't say too much about my background. What would be worse, being a hillbilly or from a large northern city?" I felt dirty and a little angry about being prejudged. My family was just as southern as his- they just didn't have the money and connections his did. They may have been poor but they were good people…well, some of them.

He looked sad as though he read my thoughts and maybe he did if I didn't mask my facial expressions too well. "Now you know that I don't think that way right?" He asked grasping my wrist. "I don't give a damn where you came from or what your daddy's last name was, but I just wanted to warn you."

"Leonard?" Came a woman's voice. "My goodness, is that really you?" A tall, slender woman in a bright yellow sundress came running from the porch with her arms spread wide. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a broad smile. "I'm glad you finally made your way back home like the prodigal son!" She sighed in a deep drawl holding him at arm's length and looking him over.

"Charlotte, this is my colleague Dr. Collins. Collins, this is my sister Charlotte." He introduced still a little guarded.

"Oh, another doctor!" She declared extending her hand for me to shake. "I will say you will feel right at home then! What branch of medicine do you practice, honey?" From anyone else's lips the pet name would have been insulting, but it seemed as natural for her as breathing.

"Not that kind of doctor." McCoy corrected. "Mental type stuff." He tapped the side of his head for emphasis.

"Oh!" She smiled. I couldn't get over how much her eyes looked exactly like McCoy's. "Well now, that is something different! It would be a relief to hear about somethin' other than insides and physical decay. Myself included, of course. I am an anesthesiologist." She explained. I nodded and she brushed her dark hair out of her eyes. "Silly me, keeping y'all standing out here, y'all are likely to fry like an egg in those uniforms." She stated embarrassed. "Put your things down right there and I'll have Peter bring them in the house. Y'all come up and sit on the porch. I'll get some lemonade."

I took a seat next to McCoy in ornately carved whitewashed rocking chairs and enjoyed the heavy perfumey smell of magnolias. I smiled gleefully at him. "You really _are_ Rhett Butler!" He tried to frown but ended up smirking. Overhead, a ceiling fan with woven tan blades turned slowly stirring the thick air. A man walked out of the house and gave us a nod before lugging our bags up the stairs. Although he didn't say so I assumed he was Peter, and it didn't look as though McCoy knew him either.

Charlotte returned with a tray filled with glasses and a sweating pitcher of yellow liquid. I hated lemonade because it was often far more sour than sweet and invariably it made my stomach hurt. I didn't have the heart to decline her hospitality, so I accepted my glass with a quiet, "Thank you, Charlotte."

"Now there!" She smiled. "You just call me Leti." I was a little confused and McCoy looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Oh, Leonard." She gently scolded giving him his glass. "Leti is what he called me when he was just a baby learnin' to talk. Bless him, he couldn't say my name quite right, but it stuck and now everybody calls me that so you can too."

I took a sip of my lemonade and wasn't sure if it or McCoy's expression was more sour. "Damn it, Leti! Do you…"

"Leonard Horatio!" She declared with a frown that was almost identical to McCoy's. I wanted to point and laugh. "There will be none of that talk at this house, now mind your manners!" He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You will need lots of practice." She added in a breezy tone.

He immediately stopped and looked up with fire in his eyes. "Why?" He growled.

"My but you have become rude since you joined the military." She commented taking a sip of her drink daintily. "I do think that in some ways it has made you a better man, but that mouth! You always did have a sharp tongue, but I declare if your language has headed straight to the gutter. Don't you speak that pretty French anymore?"

"Je, cesse toujours maintenant de m'harceler." He muttered and I swore the ambient temperature rose a few degrees. I thought about holding my cool glass to my head since it wasn't being used for anything else.

"It has been a long time since I practiced, but I wouldn't doubt it if you slipped a few curse words in there, and I am not nagging you." She smiled. "Anyway, I am hosting a little soirée tonight for charity…"

"No, no." He protested vehemently waving his hand.

She continued without skipping a beat, "…and there are a lot of ladies out there who are just _dying_ to meet the famous Dr. Leonard McCoy and are willing to pay a great deal to do so."

The expression on his face was pained and he slumped in his seat. "I didn't bring my dress uniform." He mentioned as if he already knew it was futile.

"No matter, honey. It is a costume ball. Now run on upstairs and get fitted." She instructed with patient determination.

"Leti." He whined rubbing his eyes.

"Go on, now. You want to look your best, don't you?" She smiled. "Did I mention it was for charity?" She added for extra guilt.

He scowled at her as he got up and left, but she coyly smiled. "The boy never has had a sense of composure to him." She giggled into her glass. "What a travesty, he could have made such a wonderful gentleman. Pity what happened."

I wasn't entirely sure what she meant. "Do you mean his ex-wife?" I asked.

"So he told you." She smirked. "I thought it was disaster waitin' to happen from day one and I do believe he knew it too, but he tried to make it right anyway. No good makin' a pet out of an alligator I always say." She sighed deeply. "Now his momma and daddy won't have nothin' to do with him because she was not 'high born' as you might say and it reflected poorly on the McCoy family name. I never gave no mind to that old fashioned notion so long as he was happy. Too bad he wasn't because he ended up losin' everything." She shook her head in pity. "Well, at least it seems he has a good friend in Jimmy Kirk and it was a surprise to know he was bringin' you along too. Now that is something for him to bring folks around. I'm sorry I couldn't get a costume for you in time to join the party."

"That's fine." I smiled. "I wouldn't have the first clue about how to dance or act. It will be good just to watch and learn. I am pretty much a wallflower anyway."

Guests began arriving as the sun sank below the trees and the crickets began to chirp. I sat at the top of the stairs and noted the oil paintings, leather bound books and fine carpets that filled the interior. The floorboards creaked as I walked, adding to the charm and ambiance. I glanced up to take in the beautiful crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. I sat there for most of the night listening to the orchestra play waltzes of various speeds and watching McCoy begrudgingly entertain his sister's guests and spin this one before twirling that one. The ladies looked like so much colorful confetti as they floated across the floor in puffy taffeta and lace dresses. He looked quite handsome in his black tuxedo, but he also looked miserable the few times he glanced up at me.

Even though the windows were open, the house was stuffy with all the bodies and lanterns that cast soft light on the crowd. I crept down the stairs so as not to bother any of the guests and slipped outside. I walked to the orchard drawn by the smell of peaches in the night air. I sat on the grass and looked up at the sky as the faint music from the band drifted by and I thought about the Enterprise and her crew and wondered where they were out there.

I heard the soft shuffling of footsteps behind me and McCoy's soft drawl say, "I was wondering the same thing myself. We will be back soon."

"What are you doing out here?" I asked with a smirk. "Don't you have dance cards to fill?"

He scoffed. "I saw you sneak out and I thought that was the best idea anyone's had all night. But I always have room for one more dance." He smiled and extended his hand to help me up.

"I don't know how!" I laughed standing up. "I'm a hillbilly, remember? We don't do them fancy dances."

"Then what better time to learn than now?" He chuckled. "We have nice music and no one around to see."

It felt awkward having one hand around his waist and the other holding his hand slightly in the air. We spun in circles much faster than we did the last time we danced and he patiently counted out the steps as we twirled. I was constantly stepping on his feet or being in the wrong place nearly tripping us both, but he took it all in stride. The style was much more rigid and formal than I thought it would be and after several repetitions I finally got the hang of it. At the conclusion of my first fully successful attempt he backed away and gracefully bowed while informing me I should courtesy. Even that took work to do properly, but he smiled anyway.

He put his arm around my shoulders and we looked up at the moon casting it's light on the ground. "Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she." He sighed.

"Romeo and Juliet?" I breathed feeling my knees go weak again.

"The greatest love story ever written." He whispered. His eyes were dreamy and his lips irresistibly full by the moonlight. I had tasted those lips once before and I wanted them again.

"I want to kiss you so badly." I confessed.

He smiled lightly and replied, "Then do it."

We wrapped our arms around each other and I felt electricity surge though my body when our lips gently met. It was pure magic and tension. I felt as though I were exploding, on fire and floating all at once. I hadn't realized how long I had wanted this; to feel alive again was simply amazing and he was so careful and warm I felt like kicking myself for not plucking up the courage sooner.

When we finally broke the spell, his eyes were glazed and he was breathing rapidly. It seemed his experience was similar to mine. Just past him I saw Leti behind a tree smiling among the fireflies that lit up all around us like sparks.


	26. Chapter 26 Fire and Ice

**Chapter 26- Fire and Ice**

I had a hard time sleeping, I was far to disoriented to want to. The window of my room just so happened to look out over the orchard and I spent a lot of time staring at the silver light on the trees until the sky turned a dusky blue with the coming of the day. Part of me never looked back nor regretted being so bold, but the thought lingered that things might be a little strained between us with the clarity of light. He was, after all, my very proximate co-worker.

I dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt and it sort of felt good to just be myself and not a representative of Starfleet as the mean Admiral of Academic Affairs was so quick to impress on me. Thankfully the marks of that encounter had faded, I didn't know how I would explain a black eye away to Leti. When I got downstairs, the strong and wonderful smell of freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils and I found Leti sitting at the large kitchen table reading a PADD in the dim morning light. She smiled graciously when she saw me and invited me to sit down at the table with her. "My, you are up with the chickens!" She laughed. "Coffee?"

"Please." I smiled getting up to get it myself.

"Now you sit there! What kind of hostess would I be if I made my guests fetch their own?" She asked with a mock frown. It made me slightly uncomfortable to be waited on, I was accustomed to doing everything for myself. "Sugar or cream?" Coffee was a blank canvass that required each artist to participate. I liked my coffee a particular way and only I could manage it. Still, I thanked her when she brought a streaming cup of very bitter liquid that had a strange nutty taste. "There's just a bit of chicory in it." She noted.

I nodded not really knowing what that was and put the cup down on the saucer. "So how did your charity do?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, grand! We raised a lot of money thanks to Leonard. The ladies around here have always been a little taken with him on account of his bein' so handsome, but then when _that_ whole thing happened he became a real hero and he and the crew were all over the news. Of course he never actually said much, but no matter." She paused and placed her hand on my arm with a worried expression. "Were you involved with that too?"

"No." I smiled shaking my head. "I was…very far away at the time. I didn't see any of the reports, I heard about it much later." Very, very far away and two years later….

"That's somethin'! I thought the whole galaxy knew about it. You must have been really far away. I have some of the clips, would you like to see them?" I agreed and we took our coffee to the living room where we sat on an overstuffed worn leather couch and watched the images on the huge monitor across the room. I sat on the edge of the couch with my elbows on my knees tensely. The young faces on the screen looked familiar, but they were so different from what I knew. It looked as though the video was made as they were disembarking from the ship and they were immediately seized upon by the voracious crowd that pushed and jostled them.

"They are all so traumatized." I breathed sadly. She turned to me and I gestured to the screen. "Look how wide and vacant their eyes are, they way they look without really seeing. They are all frightened and in a daze." Not surprising for a group of kids pulled straight out of the Academy to stare down death and walk away against all odds.

Jim's usually placid blue eyes were almost wild with confusion as flashes from cameras went off light a lightning storm and a sea of devices were thrust into his face to record anything that fell from his lips. Even Spock seemed barely able to deal with the barrage of inquiries. How could they have known that at that moment he was mourning his mother as well as the rest of his planet and yet they were relentless, giving no thought that he was human as well as Vulcan. Chekov was almost catatonic and muttered only in a strange mix of English and Russian. Sulu was giving a dead smile, but I knew him well enough to see that he was barely holding it together. Uhura gave only short answers and frequent glances toward Spock. Scotty was perhaps the only one that attempted to indulge the press, but even he was irritable and used a lot of Scottish slang to frustrate the reporters that followed him. And then there was McCoy.

Through it all he stood still while the world swirled around him, ignoring pleas for comments or photo ops, instead directing the flow of gurneys that streamed off the ship, occasionally checking on a patient before barking orders at the blue shirts that seemed to gravitate toward him. When one persistent reporter kept asking him to say a few words about the rescue, he whirled around with unbridled fury burning in his eyes. "People died up there! _Millions_!" He yelled jabbing a finger toward the sky. "And because we were lucky enough not to get our asses blown up, _we_ are the heroes?!" He stopped the next gurney that came off the ship and grabbed the camera to pull it in close to a redshirt that had obviously perished from a massive chest wound. "_That_ is what this is all about. _This_ is the real cost of war." He growled shoving the camera away. As it quickly refocused, it filmed him stomping away toward Jim where he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and led him back to the ship away from the media glare. Far from protest, Jim tripped after him in a blur up the ramp as though his retinas had been burned out from the flashes and he was blind.

The next clip was of McCoy looking a little more contrite but still obviously uncomfortable with the cameras and lights. He mostly looked at the ground while the reporter asked him questions. His answers were short, vague, and delivered in a low growl. "I worry a lot about him." Leti quietly said watching her baby brother on the screen. "I know he wouldn't want to worry me with details, but I just know he has seen more than he probably should. I can see it in his eyes. Those eyes aren't the same I grew up with."

We heard the creak of a floorboard and looked to see McCoy wearing a pair of loose fitting faded jeans and a black t-shirt leaning against the doorframe looking at the screen with a sense of sickness or distain. But more than that, there was a palpable sense of sadness in his eyes. "Leti." He sighed frowning into his coffee cup as he swished the liquid around.

"Mornin' Leonard." She tried to lilt while turning the monitor off. This was obviously a discussion they have had before. "You did a good deed last night and I got quite a few inquiries about you." She teased. He shot her a sarcastic look that clearly indicated his displeasure. He padded on bare feet to a chair and plopped down with a small grunt. His hair was a wild mess but he didn't give a damn, it always looked styled even if he just rolled out of bed- in fact that was why he kept it short. Emergency calls woke him in the middle of the night more often than he wanted them to and the last thing he wanted to be bothered with was neatly combing his hair while someone lay dying two floors down. "Well, seein' as how the rest of the house is stirrin' I had better get started on breakfast. You know, Leonard, today is Sunday and…"

"No!" He cut her off with an emphatic growl. "Leti, I danced until I got blisters with all the empty headed women you could dig up last night. I smiled until my face hurt and I listened to way too many stories about where people were when they heard the news about me. Today is Sunday, but it was meant to be a day of rest, right? Then let me be."

She looked disappointed."But you haven't been to church since…"

"I turned 18." He mumbled into his cup. "God doesn't exist, Leti. I've been all over up there and I never once ran into him. In fact, all I see is evidence to the contrary. All the virulent disease and violence…"

"Leonard!" She gasped. He steadily held her gaze with an icy, unapologetic conviction. It wasn't so much that he had doubts as to a divine creator, his comments may have just confirmed her worst fears. She had the tape, she got a small taste of what he saw on a fairly regular basis. She regained her grace and approached him to place her hand gently on his shoulder. "I know y'all had business of your own to attend to, and I don't mean to be selfish but I haven't seen you in so long." His face softened and he nodded in understanding. She smiled down at him and ruffled up his hair playfully before she saw it. She frowned as she tugged at the collar of his shirt. "What's this, now?" She asked running a finger over the nape of his neck.

He shot me a look that said, '_Do not tell her the truth!_' and he calmly replied, "Accident."

She leaned back to look at him skeptically. "What kind of a doctor gets burn scars? You can't fib to me, Leonard, I am a doctor too you know."

"It was an accident." I vouched swallowing back the bitter taste of a lie. "He wasn't the only one that got caught in an unexpected firestorm." Of sorts….

She traced the outline that marked him as property of the Amazon Queen and said, "Well, at least it looks like it has healed rather well. Could use some more dermal regeneration, but it doesn't look too bad." He rolled his eyes. Such was life in a house full of doctors. "Anywho, will you be back in time for Sunday dinner? Paul and the kids would love to meet you."

"Dunno." He shrugged. "I am hoping this won't take all day, but with that harpy you never know. She likes to prolong the pain as long as she can just to watch me squirm."

"For your sake I certainly hope not." She huffed crossing her arms. "That woman has been more of a pain than necrotizing fasciitis and I tell you another thing, that little girl of yours needs her daddy, it's only right that she knows you love her even if you are off in space. The way that woman uses her you'd have to wonder if she'd be better off bein' raised by wolves."

McCoy and I stood on the porch with our bellies full of biscuits and gravy and waved goodbye as she left for her church meeting. It was only 0800 and yet already it felt like it was over 100 degrees. He put his arm around me and sighed, "Are you ready to meet the Wicked Witch of the South? The Queen may have been a piece of work, but she ain't got nothing on the ex. Makes me wonder now if she was a lost member of the colony. " I chuckled and he kissed the top of my head. Rather than feeling awkward, it seemed only a natural progression. So much for strained consequences.

We borrowed a car from Leti and I was almost giddy that people still used them. As we headed back toward Atlanta, McCoy told me that combustion engines had long gone by the wayside in favor of fuel cells similar to what the Enterprise used, only smaller and they unfortunately lacked warp technology. I didn't see that as such a bad thing when I thought of all the accidents that could occur. You could be traveling along and all of a sudden intersect with another vehicle traveling at warp and you both go up in a puff of obliterated particles.

When we reached the city McCoy became even more tense, yelling at other drivers and issuing many hard glares as we sat in traffic. To be fair, the highway system had been heavily modified since the last time I had used one. Back in Chicago, the major freeways had six lanes in each direction to keep traffic flowing, but since people largely used mass transit the number of lanes had been reduced to two. Here we only had one.

I looked out the window at the buildings that constituted the city, but didn't recognize anything. I shook my head and observed, "Another city that has completely changed. I know that a lot of time has gone by, but at least in Chicago I expected to see more of the old buildings I knew. The city had always prided itself on preservation of old, historical architecture and yet only a few buildings remained."

"Nuclear holocaust will do that." He quipped tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. I looked at him astonished. He paused to take in my expression and quietly said, "Oh, you didn't know about that. Forgot."

"There was a nuclear war?" I choked out.

"World War III. Somewhere around the mid 21rst century around 600 million people died and most cities were destroyed." He raised his eyebrows and sarcastically added, "Who knows, you may have lived to see it."

"To be so lucky." I mused in horror. "But why? Money? Land? Oil?"

He shook his head no to all the usual suspects. "Eugenics."

"Eugenics." I repeated in disbelief. "Did the Nazis resurrect a fourth Reich to reestablish an Aryan race?" A desperately sick feeling stirred in the pit of my stomach.

"No. It is a long story, but essentially it starts with entire militaries being controlled by the drug trade." He glanced at me nervously as though I would have some opinion on the matter. That was nothing new: the military had been supplying drugs to soldiers since at least WWI. "And then a faction used a nuclear weapon and then further killed anyone with radiation sickness so they couldn't pass on defective or mutated genes. The back and forth went on for about 30 years until there was almost nothing left. So, what you see now had to largely be rebuilt from scratch including your former home."

"Nice." I sighed looking out the window to my right. "Good times had by all."

It took another 10 minutes to find a place to park since many streets were turned into wide pedestrian paths like you would find in Paris. She wanted him to meet her at an outdoor café and he was perplexed by this as was I; was she part of a mob or going to try and score drugs or something?

We jogged for three blocks before he slowed in front of an Italian bistro and looked over the small grouping of chairs. His jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed when he looked in the direction of a woman who sat alone sipping a late and filing her long fingernails. Her eyes were covered by sunglasses that seemed ridiculously large for her face and her lips were painted a shade of red that almost matched her long hair. In the bright sun, her cadaver pale skin almost shimmered and for some reason I equated her with a vampire and waited expectantly for her to burst into flame or bare her fangs at us. I could feel waves of revulsion wash off McCoy and the icy determination that she oozed. I just knew this wasn't going to be pretty and I began formulating a plan to keep it from spiraling out of control…


	27. Chapter 27 The Negotiator

**Chapter 27- The Negotiator**

She sat up and straightened her dress that was perhaps a size or two too tight. "_Leonard_." She greeted condescendingly putting her file back into her designer bag.

"_Jocelyn_." He snarled as he took a seat and gestured toward me. "This is Dr. Collins, she works on the ship as the counselor." She tilted her head to look me up and down and although she said nothing directly, I could tell by the way her forehead wrinkled that she had raised her eyebrow in disapproval. "You brought a therapist? We are well past couples counseling, Leonard. I am happy you finally got around to admitting you have a problem, but if you have to travel with your own personal shrink things have become worse since I last saw you."

I was never really certain what a nuclear fission reaction would actually look like, but I imagined it to be something like the explosion that took place in McCoy's eyes. "The only crazy person here is you if you think for one goddamn second that I would ever entertain the thought of getting back together with you. I would rather snuggle up to a raging case of Prodian herpes over you any day!"

"Something you are probably familiar with." She coolly retorted. "Since you have had a chance to spread yourself all over the galaxy. God knows what you have picked up."

His teeth were grinding together as he spat back, "_You_ were the one that fucked around on _me_."

"It's what happens when you don't tend to your business, Leonard. Leave the henhouse unguarded and it is only a matter of time before another fox sneaks in." She cruelly laughed. "Not that you were all that good anyway as I recall…"

"Well, forgive me if I found it a little difficult to get it on with a block of ice." He hissed. "But I still got the job done."

"Yeah, one and done." She yawned. "A real minute man. I could have done the same thing with a turkey baster."

My eyes went wide. The sheer amount of vitriol that the two spat at each other like volleys of poison darts was simply appalling. What was worse, they were doing it in front of total strangers in broad daylight. The absolute hatred and sheer unadulterated animosity that hung heavy between the two was staggering in it's ability to completely spin them into a blind rage after they muttered each other's names.

"Time out." I declared making a T shape with my hands. I went into adult psychology for a reason, but it astonished me that these two had acted as anything but. The speed at which they devolved into 5 year olds throwing temper tantrums and slinging handfuls of dirt at each other was breathtaking. I wished I had paid a little more attention in the few child psych classes I was forced to take or better yet hold a quick consultation with my colleagues in pediatrics on tips for dealing with out of control children. The only recourse I had was to try to make them act like adults again. "If I may, as a neutral third party, suggest that perhaps the best way to approach this is to stick to the topic and avoid personal attacks unless bloodletting and assured mutual destruction was the sole purpose for this meeting."

"Impartial my sweet southern ass." She scoffed under her breath. "If you work with him then you are already on his side. All you military dicks stick together."

I foresaw this as a problem and I knew I would have to work hard to win her over. "I was a counselor long before I joined Starfleet." Waaaay before. "And the first thing you learn is to never take sides because then you are in no position to stand back and see the whole picture and identify options that you may be blind to. Think of it this way: right now the two of you are neck deep in quicksand with all this hurt and anger that has accumulated over the years. The more you struggle and fight with each other, the deeper in you go. Now what will ultimately be the most helpful for you: me jumping in with you or me standing on the bank and figuring out a way to get you _both_ out? Because believe it or not, a win-win is always the goal and I have no intention of leaving you behind."

"You don't even know me!" She sneered.

"And that is why this will work if the two of you can take a few minutes to stop, calm down, and collect your thoughts so you can tackle the problem instead of each other." I reasoned. "I don't know you, therefore I have no reason not to like you or devalue your opinions. I can tell you that I have taken him off duty before; his position earns him no favors from me because business is business, which means I can have no particular loyalty to anyone. His opinions are no more or no less important than yours." Ok, so that was just a little bit of a white lie, but she looked to him in surprise and he confirmed my statement by looking at least a little ashamed as he dropped his head slightly.

I looked from one to the other and softly said, "It is clear that both of you are hurting and I know that it can be difficult to separate all that resentment and pain from what you have to do. I know that feelings will play into this and in some ways it is unavoidable, but at least for the moment you have to put all that aside because the focus has to be on your daughter and what is best for her. Now, I want the two of you to sit there for five minutes and think about that. No talking, no evil glares, just you and your own thoughts." I never really did much therapy on Earth and certainly not couples therapy, but I once heard a colleague describe doing this to his clients when they needed a 'reset' button and it seemed appropriate to give them both a time out.

Five minutes can be a really long time when you are doing nothing but sitting and staring at a table, but I had witnessed firsthand McCoy's uncanny ability to subsist on nothing but rage for hours on end and I worried it wasn't nearly long enough, but time was up. "Ok." I said breaking the silence. "Now here are the rules: only one person speaks at a time and the other person will sit quietly and listen without interruption until they have finished. Personal attacks will not be permitted and language will be kept respectful and fit for use as though Jesus were sitting here. Who wants to go first?"

McCoy frowned and twitched his finger to claim first shot although he was clearly uncomfortable with all the stipulations. He cleared his throat and asked, "What do you want now?"

She shifted in her chair and her voice wavered as she struggled to show some restraint. "Things have changed, Leonard. I know you agreed to pay alimony and child support in the divorce, but I lost the alimony when I remarried and, well, it just isn't enough."

He rolled his eyes and fell back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. "You already have everything, Jocelyn! The credits that you were getting has been going to Jo, I didn't get it back!"

"That isn't true and you and I both know it." She challenged. "I know that you got a big promotion to head medical honcho on that ship and promotions come with pay. You have been holding out on us for almost two years!"

He took a deep breath and leaned across the table. "Jo is supposed to get ¾ of my credits every month and God so help me if I find out you have been blowing what belongs to her on designer clothes and visits to a salon so they can dye your drapes a different color than the carpet I will haul your ass back into court!"

She looked expectantly at me, but I was already on it. "McCoy." I warned. "No personal insults." He glared at me, but I had to stand my ground and hold his eyes with a neutral expression until he looked away in frustration. It may have hurt and felt like betrayal, but if I could get him to play ball he would end up better off in the long run. As it stood, she had all the power in this transaction, I just had to convince her to give it to me and that meant making her feel as though I really were neutral, which I largely was because to manipulate her completely would be highly unethical. The Queen was one thing because I had only the crew to think of and everyone else be damned, but somewhere a 10 year old girl's future hinged on this meeting and I had to think about what would be best for her development and psychological well being even if it meant a less than optimal outcome for McCoy. Simply put: her needs superseded all others.

"Well, we need more." She said in a matter-of-fact tone that would have impressed Spock. She fidgeted with her dress and looked at the ground which seemed odd to me. A red flag went up in my head, but I didn't have any solid evidence to go on other than a gut feeling that there was a lot more she wasn't saying.

"Too bad, Jos." McCoy sighed with a shrug. "You done bled me dry and I ain't making that much more as a CMO than I did before. No one ever became a millionaire off Starfleet."

"You could have." She accused bitterly. "You could have taken the endorsement deals and the interview offers, but no!"

His eyes again grew dark and he banged the table with his fist in frustration. "You're goddamn right I didn't!" He yelled. "None of us did because we all agreed it wasn't right to profit off the deaths of our comrades or the millions of poor souls that were wiped out on Vulcan before they could even say goodbye to the people they loved! A Vulcan works on my ship, Jos. His mother died in that holocaust and just how in the hell could I look him in the face everyday knowing I was getting rich off his grief?!"

She threw up her hands in defeat. "I just knew this wouldn't work." She said tersely.

"Hold on." I stated calmly touching each on the arm to try and calm them. "Jocelyn, would you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to talk with you as well if you are willing." She nodded hesitantly and took a sip of her now cold late.

"McCoy, mind taking a walk with me?" I asked nicely. He gave her one last spiteful glare before reluctantly getting up and shoving his chair back under the table with a clang. She jumped slightly, but looked down at the table. I steered him inside to the bar where I gestured for him to sit on a stool. "Normally I wouldn't condone alcohol as a coping mechanism, but I think you might do well with a beer or two." I sighed sitting next to him.

"I'm sorry." He growled in a defeated tone letting his head fall into his hands. "But goddamn if she doesn't know just how to fuck with me."

"I know." I consoled with a pat on the back. "That is why with your permission I will try to broker a deal between you. She can't manipulate me the way she can you and I have a sneaky suspicion there is more to the story; I will see if I can get her to spill her guts. In the meantime, you stay here and go slow on the booze, ok?"

He nodded and looked at me pitifully. "I really want to see my baby girl again, even if it is just for a few minutes. I want to tell her how much I love her in case I never get the chance again." He didn't have to say it, but I knew as well as he did that at any given moment we could be forever wiped out on the Enterprise. It was just the nature of our jobs and he didn't want to be Spock. He didn't want to leave things undone or God forbid be the one left with regret at all the things that he should have said should something happen to her. I gave him a sad, tight lipped smile and ran my hand across his shoulders a few times before turning to go with the weight of the world on my shoulders.


	28. Chapter 28 Deal or no Deal

**Chapter 28- Deal or No Deal**

I was relieved to see that she hadn't fled in my absence. I took a seat next to her and she tensed slightly. I knew I would have to finesse my tone just a bit to put her at ease, so I spoke slowly and softly. "Thank you for staying to talk with me, Jocelyn." I smiled slightly. I didn't want to seem overly friendly least it be misinterpreted as a hard sell. "I wanted to see if we could still come to some sort of agreement so you can both get what you need, but more importantly your daughter gets what she needs. It seems it might be easier if you aren't face to face."

"It always has been." She scoffed. "We mostly communicate through lawyers or text messages. And now messengers."

I chuckled, but quickly got down to business. "Jocelyn, I have been doing this for awhile and I would like to think that I am a fairly good observer of human behavior. Would I be wrong to say that you are just a little desperate for this deal?"

She looked up at me shocked as though I had used telepathy. If you counted nonverbal cues as mind reading, then I guess I did. She seemed hesitant, but leaned in a little closer and nervously said, "I know you work for Leonard and you must be on leave because you aren't in uniform. But are you still working…in an official capacity?"

I was a little confused and muttered, "I am always on duty in a sense, but I do not work for McCoy. That little bit is what allows me to be impartial and kick him out of his own sickbay if I have to. But if you are asking about the patient/doctor privacy privilege, you are covered. I can't tell him anything you say if you don't want me to." Usually the only time people asked about that was if they were hiding something either really big or really shameful and I could almost bet I knew what it was based on her demographics.

She played with her hair nervously and hurriedly spat out, "I have to take Joanna and leave, but I need credits." It was almost too predictable and I didn't make her say it; I just left it as an unspoken understanding that I knew what she was getting at, and I did. When one thinks of a battered wife, usually people of low socioeconomic status come to mind because they were usually the most visible. However, a shockingly high percentage of wealthy women often suffered in silence because they were beholden to their husbands who controlled access to the money, effectively preventing them from escaping. They quietly covered their bruises with expensive makeup and sought medical attention using aliases or doctors who would make house calls if they were paid under the table. After all, they had appearances to keep up and nothing talked louder than money.

I had to strike the right balance between concern and pity. "How long has this been going on?" I asked quietly.

"Clay lost his job at the hospital when he operated on a poor young man while he was drunk. It was far from the first time he done it, but this time the boy died and the hospital only fired him because he did such a hack job the family threatened to sue them out of business. That was about a year ago and he swore that he was so good any hospital would be glad to hire him, except word got around and no one wants someone like that fixin' people. It started when he was fired, but it was only sometimes. Now it is almost every day." She lowered her head and stifled a sob. I patiently waited until she was able to go on. "It was just me, but he has started in on Jo for making too much noise when she plays outside or for crying when he yells at her. I have to get out."

"Yes you do." I agreed in a supportive yet firm tone. "For your own safety and that of Jo because you know that it will only get worse even if he says he is sorry and promises never to do it again. Do you have anywhere to go?"

"I have a sister in Phoenix that will let us stay with her until I can get back on my feet." She replied using the napkin that her late rested on to dab at her eyes under her sunglasses. Now I understood the need for a pair that covered most of her face. I also knew why she wanted to be in a public place just in case Clay found her.

If rule number one was to never take sides, rule number two was never get personally involved with any one client. However, she was desperate enough to be honest with a person she barely knew only because she felt her very life was in danger. How could I turn my back on that?

"Then you have to go. Today." I emphasized. "Because you realize that this is about more than just you. Jo is young and is still forming her conceptualization of how the world works, right now she is getting a very wrong message about the relationship between men and women. She is seeing that women are weak and manipulate others to get what they need. She thinks that men have a right to hurt them because they have the credits that buy flashy things. Your leaving will go a long way in showing her that the situation is not acceptable, but she needs a male figure in her life too."

"I don't need his help raising her." She defended.

"You could do it on your own, but I could give you mountains of research that time and again points to the dire importance of fathers to the healthy development of girls. Girls who have supportive fathers are less likely to suffer from self-esteem and body image issues, they are more likely to be engaged in healthy activities like sports or other competitive ventures, academically they do better, and they are less likely to engage in risky sexual behaviors." I raised my eyebrows. "Need I go on? Fathers are what girls use to form an idea about what a man is. Now which makes for a more positive model of a male: a woman, Clay, or a Starfleet Officer who may be flawed but loves his daughter more than life itself?"

She shook her head and gave a sad smile. "He always did lover her more than anyone, including me."

"It sounds like things have been extremely hard and acrimonious between you, but let's just call a spade a spade here. You were planning on using her as a trump card to get him to comply because even you know that is the one thing he could never say no to. That tells me that you have no real objection to his having contact with her, otherwise you would have never made the offer no matter what. You know as well as I do that this push and pull is not good for her. Whatever you do, you must be consistent. Inconsistency causes neuroticism or worse, antisocial behavior and she will wind up in my office one screwed up adult."

I was distracted by a shadow and turned slightly to see McCoy hovering by a window, squinting between sips from his beer bottle. I knew he was nervous, but trying to glean information by reading my facial expressions was cheating and I silently told him to shoo. He took a step backwards, but I knew he only went far enough so I could no longer see him.

"I will make a deal with you that is a win-win." I declared again focusing on her. "I will contact Starfleet legal and instruct them to transfer enough credits to you from my account for you to leave and I will also provide a stipend that lasts no longer than 6 months, but here are my conditions: 1) you get Jo and leave right now. I will make accommodations for you for tonight, but tomorrow you are out on the first shuttle to Phoenix. 2) You will have absolutely no contact with Clay in any way, shape, or form and you will get a restraining order against him first thing when you get there. 3) You will agree to rescind your complaint against McCoy and restore full parental rights to him including visitation. 4) You waive the right to all future legal actions against McCoy unless the complaint is criminal. 5) There will be no verbal agreements and the payment will not be made until this is all documented by Starfleet legal, signed, notarized, and returned. 6) You will seek gainful employment or begin work toward a degree because I hope you see by now that you can't let others live your life for you and Jo needs to know that independence is an option. Failure on any of these terms will result in immediate cessation of payments. Do you agree?"

She licked her red lips and sighed. It was a hard bargain for her; I was stripping her of her trump card and making her live a life to which she was unaccustomed, but you had to get a few bumps and scrapes to know that you had hit bottom, and it was my experience that it just made the view from the top that much sweeter. "Look, I understand if you need time to think about it." I said getting up.

"Wait." She instructed reaching for the hem of my shirt. "I really have no other option. I know Leonard will want to see Jo, but I don't want him to know. If he ever was good at anything it was knowing when an accident wasn't really an accident if you know what I mean."

I sat uneasily in my seat. "Does she have any visible marks on her?"

She nodded her head. "She has some bruises on her arms and one on her chin."

I thought back to all the tricks I used and cursed the hot Georgia summer that made wearing a long sleeved shirt ridiculous bordering on suicidal. Make-up at her age was out of the question. "I can't condone lying to him, but there is no denying that if he found out he would hunt Clay down and viciously murder him." I stated trying to keep my face neutral just in case McCoy was still spying. "But in the end it doesn't matter what you or I tell him, what will Jo do? Do you think she would mention it spontaneously?"

"No, but if he asked her about it she wouldn't lie. She never could lie to him." She frowned. "It seems to be a problem they both have. Leonard is no saint, but he never was one to flatter or spare anyone the truth no matter how uncomfortable it was."

I sighed. It was a terrible dilemma. "The only way I can see around this is to simply make him agree not to seek revenge. Once he makes a promise he will keep it no matter how mad it makes him. I will just tell him it is a condition of his seeing Jo. To be honest you have made some big concessions, the least he can do is make some himself and meet you half way. If I get him to agree to no contact with Clay, Jo won't be forced to lie." She agreed and I exchanged contact information with her. "I will let you know where you are staying tonight and I will have legal send you the documents ASAP. If I don't see you again, good luck on your new life in Phoenix."

She paused for a moment and swallowed. "If not for Leonard, I'm not sure why you are doing this, but I thank you anyway."

"Does it matter why?" I asked rhetorically. "The point is you are both out of the quicksand by an option neither of you could see, so my job here is done. The best thanks you can give me is by succeeding and I will be watching."

I had my reasons. The truth was, I had been pulled out of the quicksand myself by others when I was in trouble and it was now time for me to pay it forward. I had never met Jo, but from what I heard about her I couldn't help but see myself at that age. I didn't want her to face the same life I did and I would have given anything if someone would have offered my mother a way out. Those were my reasons for breaking the rules, but neither she nor McCoy would ever know.

I went back inside to see McCoy slouched in a booth where he had a clear view of where we were sitting. Three empty bottles sat on the table and I wondered how many more had been cleared away. He looked anxiously at me when I sat down. "Ok, McCoy." I began slowly folding my hands in front of me on the table. "The only thing you have to agree to is to not have any contact whatsoever with Clay. If you can do that, you are once again 100% legally a father and you can see your little girl tonight."

A momentary flash of hope sparked in his eyes, but it was quickly extinguished by a suspicious squint. "Why do I need to agree to that?" Sometimes he was too smart for his own good and the beer didn't slow his cognitive skills as much as I had hoped.

"Either you do or you don't." I stated emphatically. "She had to make some blind concessions as well."

I could all but see his mind racing with any number of scenarios as to why such a stipulation would be required; and when it came to catastrophic thinking, no one was more creative than him. Even the most remote, farfetched possibility was considered. It was almost as wondrous as Jim's ability to make improbable events actually happen. I was just glad their tendencies didn't seem linked in any way as for Jim to accidently conjure up McCoy's wild speculations. The universe would be full of far more danger, death, and disease than it currently was and random freak accidents would become commonplace.

After a long deliberation, he cautiously agreed. "Let me see your hands." I smiled. "I want to make sure you aren't crossing your fingers. Put them on the table and swear again."

He gave me a disdainful look and let his hands fall heavily on the table with his fingers spread out. "I promise." He growled.

"Pinky swear?" I laughed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He scowled. "Want me to spit into my hand and shake on it?"

"I was actually thinking more along the lines of a blood oath, but those hands are pretty important. Better keep them in working order." I admitted. "But I have some work to do and I am guessing you have had a few too many to drive home. Give me the keys." He began to protest, but I cut him off. "Friends don't let friends drive drunk. Now hand them over or I will fish them out of your pocket myself." At first he looked amused, but grumbled something about nagging harpies and public gropings and reluctantly plopped the warm metal with a sunflower keychain into my hand.

He was mostly quiet on the way home, slumped in his seat and staring out the window at nothing in particular. Maybe he was sleepy from the alcohol or maybe he was just trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings of getting his daughter back, but the silence was comfortable. Even when we arrived at his sister's house too late for dinner, he was silent except for the way he draped his arm across my shoulders as we walked up the steps. It was simple, yet spoke of a casual closeness we now shared. If I was in his inner circle before, I was now at ground zero.


	29. Chapter 29 The Bottom Line

**Chapter 29- The Bottom Line**

McCoy took a little nap to sleep off the buzz much to Leti's displeasure. He tried telling her he didn't sleep well the night before, and then he changed his story to say he didn't feel good but that was his mistake. Never switch horses in the middle of a stream, pick a story and stick to it. Although he tried to keep his distance, it wasn't like she couldn't smell the beer on his breath as he exhaled. He wasn't exactly drunk- I had seen him far worse before, but it seemed he had broken a house rule by drinking at all and he was banished to a large swing on the porch. It was warm, but with the shade, breeze, and fan overhead, he stretched out and rocked himself to sleep in no time.

Leti had brought her husband Peter and her three children home from church. They had gracefully packed up and spent the weekend camping so she could have the house to herself for her charity. Peter seemed a nice man, he was quiet and friendly. When I asked him if he was a doctor as well, he gently chuckled and said he was the only one who wasn't. He was a librarian by trade, but his hobby was being the local historian. We sat on the opposite end of the porch from McCoy and he told me all about the Civil War and Sherman's march to raze Atlanta. I sat politely and listened although he couldn't have known the period was much closer to my own timeframe than he could have imagined. It had only been 150 years or from when I left compared to almost 400 for him, so I was more than just a little familiar with the history of the period. He was very knowledgeable and passionate about his subject, of that there was no doubt; but I had to get to work.

I reluctantly excused myself to begin the long process of getting through the red tape at Starfleet legal until finally I had the documents I needed. While I was on hold and bounced between the Houston, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Moscow offices, I made reservations for Jocelyn and Jo under my name at a nice hotel downtown. I also booked two one way shuttle tickets to Phoenix and was pleased to find out that as an enlisted Officer I got a nice discount. There were a few perks after all. I forwarded it all to the hotel and sent her a short and cryptic message to meet us there just in case Clay got the message first. If there was anything I remembered how to do from the age of information overload, it was how to multitask.

I went back out to the porch where a small child no older than 3 was standing on his tip toes and peering anxiously at McCoy's sleeping face. The boy was wearing a pair of overalls with the legs rolled up and it looked as though that were all. No shirt, no socks or shoes. One strap slid lazily off his shoulder and he turned his dirty face to his mother and yelled, "Momma! The man smells funny!" Leti hissed at him to get away, but McCoy was already awake and glaring in confusion at the strange child which sent him into fits of giggles.

Leti sighed and said, "Blake, that is your uncle Leonard. Remember I told you about him?"

The child looked back at the uncle he had apparently never met before with wide eyes and squealed, "Space man!" McCoy smiled and sat up despite Blake's constant tugging on his shirt trying to get his attention. When it became irritating, he looked down at him and gave him a mild scowl. "Tell me about the Womulans." He pleaded twisting in a full circle and almost falling down in his excitement.

McCoy glanced at Leti and smirked at his curious nephew. "They are mean and that is all you need to know for now." He ruffled the child's hair and added, "Maybe when you get older." Blake began running around the porch and making hissing sounds with his arms outstretched as though his entire body were a spaceship and he was flying. I tried to smile, but I really hated children. They were so strange and their behaviors were often obnoxious. I used to call them aliens, but I have since met actual aliens and they were nothing alike; children were far more bizarre. I wondered what Spock thought of human children and their unrestrained and frantic movements and sounds so unlike Vulcan children no doubt. He probably thought it every bit as distasteful as I did, although he would never give anyone any indication that he felt one way or another about it.

Blake used McCoy's back for a landing strip. He climbed and tumbled all over him like a jungle gym and even pretended to ride him like a horse until he ran out of energy and apparently fell asleep still draped over his back with his head resting on his shoulder. All the while, he patiently ignored the child's hyperactivity and only scolded him when he nearly poked his eye out. I was amazed. How could he be so oblivious to such an annoying ordeal when he didn't afford adults who needed his help the same courtesy? Maybe physical contact had a calming effect on him. I would have to tell Jim to try riding him like a horse the next time a hypo was in his future. Perhaps the crew would have to randomly dog pile him now and again to keep him calm.

Thankfully, Leti's other two children were much calmer and approached their uncle with a sense of awe and trepidation. They had apparently met him before. Jocelyn was quick to get back to me and I alerted McCoy who carefully removed his nephew from his back and laid him down on the swing without ever waking him. The sleep of a child was more like a coma and I was amazed at the amount of jostling they could endure without ever stirring.

We were off again to Atlanta to see the only child that really mattered to him, but not before having meatloaf sandwiches and peaches picked straight from the tree thrust upon us for the trip. McCoy wolfed his sandwich down in three impressive bites and was struggling to chew as we drove off. I decided to enjoy mine. Real, actual, non-replicated beef and every bite was pure ecstasy. "Don't eat the peaches." He warned once he finally choked his massive mouthful down. "You will have juice all down the front of your shirt." I looked sadly at the glorious fuzzy fruit the size of a baseball. How I really wanted to sink my teeth into it.

We pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and McCoy was a little confused as to why he was meeting his daughter there, but he didn't question it too much and I smiled at his subtle giddiness. I bypassed the front desk and went straight to the room I had rented. McCoy was growing suspicious as to how I would know where to go, but he kept his comments to himself and took a deep breath when I knocked on the door. I looked back at him and checked, "Are you going to be ok?" He put his game face on and nodded sternly when the door opened.

A young girl with her dark hair pulled back in a pony tail peered up at us. I had never seen her before, but I could tell who her father was without a doubt; she looked exactly like him in almost every way. Cut her hair short, put her in a blue uniform, make her scowl a bit and I would swear Scotty had an accident with the transporter and shrunk McCoy. She looked past me and up at her father. Her eyes grew wide and she began jumping up and down excitedly with her arms extended to him while she squealed, "Daddy!"

He squatted and greeted, "Hia, sweetheart. How's my baby girl?" He drew her into a tight embrace as though it were the first and last times and I knew then that Jocelyn was right; he would probably never love another human as much as he did her. The sheer explosion of joy in his eyes and the wide smile that threatened to split his cheeks was beyond words. "I missed you too, honey." He laughed when she began to swivel back and forth nearly wrenching his neck. She took a step back and kissed him on the forehead with a loud, "Mwwah!" He chuckled and gently stroked her face in wonder as though she were an apparition. She put her hands on the sides of his face and giggled until he picked her up in his arms and deftly slung her onto his back to give her a piggyback ride into the room where her mother was sitting on the bed, still wearing her sunglasses. They greeted each other with slightly less animosity than before; an uneasy truce had been called for the benefit of their child.

McCoy let Jo slide down his back to the floor and he took a seat in a chair next to the bed. It didn't take long for Jo to climb up in his lap although she was just a little too big for that. "Daddy," she called sweetly, "I know I said I wanted to be a doctor just like you, but would you mind if I was an animal doctor instead?"

Her voice was like honey to his ears and he smiled grandly at her. "Darlin' you can be whatever you want and I will still be proud of you. Animals get sick and hurt, they need doctors too." She seemed satisfied with his blessing and went on telling him about bugs she had trapped in her backyard and the neighbor's new dog. He listened with a faint smile; it didn't matter what she said, her voice was angelic to him and he would have been happy to sit there while she read the entire phone book to him.

I quietly whispered to Jocelyn and we left him there with her while we went to the front desk to retrieve her tickets and get a printout of the paperwork for us to sign. She read it all over and asked, "So he agreed, then?"

"He did." I confirmed. "I didn't tell him why, but he promised not to go after Clay. In fact, I didn't tell him anything. He doesn't know why we are here or that you are leaving." I signed my name after hers and we turned to go back to the room. "Now to get him to sign. This will be like 20 questions."

When we returned, he was examining Jo's arm with a frown. "What did you get into, baby?" He asked cautiously. Jo hung her head and tried to avoid her father's eyes by sinking into his shoulder. McCoy's eyes blazed fire at us, but he wrapped his arms around her protectively and tried to comfort her by rubbing her upper arm and whispering soft nothings into her hair. He knew, and I knew that I faced a very long night because he would likely badger me for information that I couldn't give. Sometimes the confidentiality clause really sucked.

She sat there for awhile with her arms loosely draped around his neck until she declared that she was hungry. Once McCoy mentioned he had peaches from her Auntie Leti's house she licked her lips excitedly. "I can take her to get them." I volunteered slyly gesturing to the pile of paperwork I left on the bed. Jo looked to me and I smiled bravely. She was at least old enough that I could tolerate her for a little while because she seemed to be near the age of reason.

On the way down in the elevator I was trying to remember where we parked when her small voice said, "My name is Joanna, what's yours?"

I smiled down at her. "I guess we haven't met, have we? My name is Dr. Collins. I work with your father."

"What do you fix?" She hummed pleasantly swinging her arms back and forth.

"Problems." I said thoughtfully. "I try to make people feel better if they are upset." I wasn't really sure if she could grasp exactly what I did if I didn't put it in simple terms.

She looked up at me with her large eyes and sincerely asked, "Can you make my daddy happy again? He is upset a lot. He doesn't want me to know sometimes, but I do. The last time he called me for my birthday from space he was sad then."

"Sometimes being in space can make people sad because they are so far away from the people they love." I explained locating the car and digging out the peaches to give to her. "And your father loves you very much, he probably missed you. You make him happier than anyone he knows."

"When he called, Mr. Kirk also said happy birthday." She stated proudly. "He waved at me." I nodded my head and tried not to laugh. I guess such a thing would be a pretty big deal to a young girl. She probably got a lot of bragging mileage to her friends out of that one. "And Mr. Chekov too." She giggled blushing. "He waved and said happy birthday in Russian. He is _so_ cute, I am going to marry him when I get old enough and we will live in Russia and live happily ever after." She sighed. Ah, the joy of a kiddie crush. I just wondered if Pavel knew of her plans or that McCoy was destined to become his father-in-law. I also wondered if she knew how damn cold Russia was compared to Georgia.

To my dismay, I could hear them bickering all the way down the hall and Jo slowed her pace. This was probably far from the first time she had been witness to them arguing. "Damn it, Jos, I have a right to know!" McCoy yelled.

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Jocelyn retorted. "We are leaving tomorrow and that is all you need to know." I knocked on the door to quiet them before I entered with Joanna in tow, holding her peaches close to her body as though they somehow protected her.

McCoy was clenching the paperwork in his hand and he looked very irritated until he saw his daughter, then he tried to put on a more pleasant mask that didn't quite cover the anger he still held. "Hey, baby." He smiled inviting her to come to him. "I heard you are going to stay with your aunt in Phoenix for awhile." She nodded her head and he tried to be neutral. "Well then you have some fun, but don't forget to use sunscreen every day and turn your shoes upside down at night so scorpions don't climb in."

"Leonard!" Jocelyn scolded, "You will frighten her."

He scowled and replied, "I'm just trying to keep her safe. Do you know what scorpion venom does if it doesn't get treated right away? Her whole foot will swell and…"

I held my hand out to halt his lecture. "I am sure she will be fine, and I am equally sure she will receive adequate medical attention if anything should happen, right?" I asked looking directly at Jocelyn. I was mentally frayed and felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. I picked up the paperwork to see that McCoy had in fact signed his section with his looping, illegible signature and I sighed, "I have to go take care of this. Please, for the love of God, act like adults while I am gone." There was a little more irritation than I had intended in my voice, but I was exhausted and tired of being a referee.

I had the front desk send a copy of the completed documents back to Starfleet and then confirmed that the credits would be available for her when she checked out in the morning. I stopped by the bar and ordered a Bailey's and an entire bottle of the finest scotch they had for Scotty. The bartender looked warily at me and asked, "Hard night, miss?" I kept my head down and massaged my temples. I was in no hurry to get back up there, but I feared if I didn't then they would be at each other's throats again.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and McCoy's voice quietly asked, "Can I buy you a drink?" I wiggled my glass at him to remind him I already had one. He nodded and declined anything for himself when the bartender came around. He sat uneasily in the chair with his elbows on the table. "I don't suppose you can tell me what any of this is about?" He asked although he already knew what I would say.

"Can't." I said simply. "You know the rules, McCoy." I looked into my glass at the ice floating in a sea of tan. I knew it broke his heart to only be left with suspicions and theories as to what had happened to his little girl, and in some ways it seemed grossly unfair- he should have a right to know, but he didn't.

If he was disappointed with me, he didn't show it. "I'm going to come back tomorrow and see them off at the depot. It's getting late and Leti will start worrying soon." I took that to mean hurry up, so I finished off my glass with one gulp and went to the bar to pay the tab.

I closed my eyes for most of the trip home. My head was hurting and the brightness of oncoming headlights didn't help. McCoy had found some soft music on the radio and I grinned. He knew I loved music. I wondered if traditional radio stations even existed anymore or if it was all like an XM satellite system or even computers like the ship had. I froze momentarily when he took one hand off the wheel to place it on mine that lay in the seat between us. The voice on the radio sang, "You're an exception to the rule, you're a bonafide rarity. You're all I ever wanted. Southern girl, could you want me?" I smirked and squeezed his hand lightly and I saw him smile by the soft glow of the dashboard lights.


	30. Chapter 30 On the Road Again

**Chapter 30- On the Road Again**

The entire house was quiet when I woke up. I presumed Peter had gone to work and the kids were playing somewhere far away. I got dressed in my blue uniform and stopped by McCoy's room to listen at his door, but he was already gone to the shuttle depot to say goodbye to his fractured family. I went downstairs and found a note from Leti taped to the mirror at the bottom of the stairs. It was a note that was actually written on paper by hand and I smirked, it was amazing how such a common thing in my time seemed out of place now.

Her handwriting was fluent and smooth, very unlike McCoy's hieroglyphics that required much head scratching and guessing. "Leonard- There was an emergency at the hospital and I had to be there (you know how it is, the life of a doctor never did run smooth). I am not sure how long it will take or if I will get home before you have to leave. If not, I really enjoyed seeing you again. I know your job takes you away for such long periods of time and you never know when you will be on Earth again (the life of a Starfleet surgeon is not smooth either- perhaps doubly so), but I hope that it won't be too long before you can come home again. No matter what the others say, you will be welcome here. I understand if you can't make it home, but at least have the courtesy to call or even send a message once in awhile! Love and hugs." I left the note where it was and milled about aimlessly until I realized that being alone in such a huge, empty house was kind of spooky even in broad daylight.

I went outside and picked a few peaches off the trees and wandered toward the back of the property through the tall grass where I could hear water flowing. Not too far from the house was a good sized stream that ran fast and clear. I sat on the bank and noticed the tree nearest me had boards nailed to the trunk to fashion a crude ladder. I looked up the ladder to see a good sized tree house that was weather worn, but sturdy. I expected to see a sign that read 'No girls allowed' and imagined a young McCoy vigorously defending his fort against his sisters with a slingshot and peach pits for ammunition. I sat there and watched the water flow by and ate the peaches with much slurping and sucking to try and contain the juice and keep it from getting all over my uniform. In the end I was a glorious, sticky mess but it was well worth it: you just couldn't even come close to that with a replicator.

I was washing my face and hands in the stream when I heard the tall grass swishing in time to footsteps. I flung the excess water off my hands and turned to see McCoy with a wide smile on his face. "How did you know I was here?" I asked amazed.

He looked back in the direction he had come and turned to me as if it was the most stupid question he had heard all day. "I followed your trail." He replied slowly. "Grass doesn't part like that on it's own." I was instantly reminded of Pavel telling me how he used snow stuck to the sides of tree trunks to find his way home when he got lost in the woods and it was then that I knew I would be forever hopeless in these things. "Take a long last look, because we have to move. Our departure has been moved up." He grumbled.

We went back to the house and I pointed out the note Leti left for him while I ran upstairs to get my bag. On the way out, I spotted a white envelope that had been pushed partially under the dresser addressed to me. I shoved it in my bag and we walked to the end of the lane where a neighbor agreed to take us back to Atlanta. Every so often, he would turn to look at his home as it grew smaller and slipped away with each step. I was glad I agreed to come with him back in San Francisco: although we only had a scant two days, time moved slower here and it was well worth it just to see that one moment of absolute perfection in his eyes when he was reunited with his daughter.

Once at the station, the neighbor got out to wish us luck and when McCoy thanked him for the lift, the man shook his hand and gave him a hard slap on the shoulder that sent him forward a step to regain his balance. "Aw, Leonard. Who knew you would turn out to be a real, goddamned American hero? Your daddy might not ever say it, but I know he is proud of what you did." McCoy grimaced, but held on as long as social custom dictated before quickly turning to go inside the station without ever saying a word. I had to hurry to catch up to him or risk getting lost in the crowd and he was moving fairly fast, weaving and cutting his way through the mass of bodies fueled by a gnawing irritation.

When he finally did stop at a gate marked for Miami, at least some of his anger had been spent and we were allowed to board ahead of everyone else due to being in uniform. I was very uncomfortable with this allowance and I felt guilty as the other passengers filed past. I tried not to look at their faces which I was sure would reflect impatience or disgust at out elite status. McCoy didn't notice, nor would he have cared; he sat by the aisle and quietly fished in his bag for his hypo that would keep him from screaming or vomiting during the flight and winced slightly when the instrument hissed and inserted the medicine into his forearm. He began to reload the hypo for me, but I declined; I would have to get used to traveling this way sooner or later.

I didn't get to see even one palm tree in Miami because we were immediately ushered onto a Starfleet transport shuttle. I buckled in and reached for McCoy's hand when the thrusters kicked in and the whole craft shuddered and shook with the power required to reach escape velocity out of the Earth's atmosphere. Once free of the pull of gravity, I relaxed in the more familiar feel of space and that worried me: when did space and the Enterprise feel more like home than my own planet? I caught a glimpse of the Earth as we disappeared further into the blackness and it was beautiful, it would probably never lose it's luster for me; but still I was glad to be heading back to the ship and the people I missed so dearly.

Everyone on the shuttle was heading for the transport ship SS Lakul that would carry them to various starbases for further distribution throughout the system to their posts. According to McCoy, we had a very long way to go and a few connections to make before we returned to the Enterprise. As far as he knew, they were still hovering around the outer limits of the Federation in sector 904 of the beta quadrant, but that was no guarantee they hadn't been directed elsewhere.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I laughed. "If you hadn't come, how in the world would I have made it back home?"

"Exactly." He smirked. "With the way you get lost even on the ship, there was no way we were going to let you gallivant around the galaxy on your own. We'd never see you again." I was less than thrilled with the vote of confidence. "But really, hitchhiking is an art that takes time to learn because you might miss connections, or ships aren't where they are supposed to be, or you may have to switch directions because your post is now going the other way…there are a hundred things that can go wrong." In that case, I was glad to let him be the navigator.

The transport ship was like a floating barracks and just as Spartan. Everything was rudimentary from the shared bathrooms that were only divided by gender, to the bare bones mess hall and the slop that against all odds was far worse than the Academy, to the rows and rows of cots that lined the walls and floors of the one, huge, room. I never had the experience of sleeping with 200 other people before and it was an odd one at best. Even the walls and floors were composed of nothing other than the drab metal that formed the hull dimly lit by a few lights here and there. When I asked McCoy what the heavy, metal rings bolted to the floor were for he told me that the ship also transported prisoners as well as supplies. The rings were for securing either so they didn't move during transit. When he called prisons 'reorientation centers' I shuddered; it sounded like a place where brain washing and maltreatment took place- kind of the same way 'sanatoriums' were meant to sound more palatable to cover the horrific conditions and treatment mentally ill people received at the turn of the century.

After almost a week and a half on that floating gulag, I was happy when McCoy told me it was time to disembark and catch our connection. He seemed unusually tense as we boarded an incredibly small craft meant for a maximum of four people. The shuttle was piloted by a Vulcan woman who spoke very little to us and I tried not to stare at her, but I had never seen another Vulcan aside from Spock and I was eager to compare his physical traits to hers to perhaps better determine the differences that made him human. I was sorely disappointed because she seemed no different; no more green or even logical than he. I looked out the tiny window in boredom and read the ship's registry: NSP-17938 T'Pau."

She was not unique and I suppressed a smile when I realized we were on a Vulcan ship! Once aboard, we were greeted by what I assumed was someone of importance although I couldn't be sure. Vulcans may have been part of the Federation, but they were not in Starfleet and as such, I couldn't make sense of their ranking system based on uniforms.

"We have received a request from Sarek on behalf of James Tiberius Kirk of the starship Enterprise to transport you to the edge of the alpha quadrant where you will be transferred to the USS Raven. Is that correct?" The Vulcan woman asked absolutely dispassionate. Even Spock used a little more inflection in his voice than she did. McCoy nodded trying not to scowl. "Then you will follow me to your quarters. The voyage will take two days, 5 hours and 11 minutes." She informed turning on her heel and abruptly walking away.

We were given rooms on the same floor and I was surprised that this was also a transport ship. It was nothing like the one we had left; there were actual rooms with real beds and bathrooms. The rooms were clean and efficient, but I would expect nothing less of a Vulcan. I knew Spock was a vegetarian, but apparently it was a cultural trait and not a personal choice. I didn't mind, but McCoy was going through protein withdrawal by the end and no amount of peanut butter or beans could make up for amino acids provided by animal flesh for him. Being on the Vulcan ship was like suppressing tics for him, the urge to call one of them a green blooded hobgoblin or pointy eared bastard was almost more than he could bear when he was calmly being told his speech or action was illogical at almost every turn. I decided this was the one thing that made Spock unique: he largely knew when to speak up and when to just let things slide.

The crew knew we were from the Enterprise, yet not one asked about Spock. I thought that was just a little strange- it seemed he was infamous for being partially human, and he did in large part save the Earth and try to save his own planet, and the remaining Vulcan community was very small, so one would think they would know who he was and wonder how he was doing. And yet, not one Vulcan mentioned his name; to me it was highly illogical and it seemed as though nothing he would ever do would be good enough. Now it made sense why he chose to join Starfleet.

Not that McCoy was hesitant to leave the ship, but he didn't like the idea of being beamed from the T'Pau to the Raven rather than being ferried. Now that I knew how transporters worked, I couldn't say I was too keen either, but we both bravely stepped up on the pad and crossed our fingers that there would be no hiccups. I should have been more comforted by the fact a Vulcan was running the console, but for some reason I didn't feel comfortable unless it was Scotty disassembling me; perhaps it was because I knew that no one would work harder to fix the problem should one arise even if it meant rewiring the whole ship or building a new console from scratch if he had to.

The Raven was another research vessel that just so happened to be heading in the general direction of the Enterprise and I was happy to know that this would be our last stop before crossing the finish line. Once we rematerialized, a short, blonde man in a red shirt stepped forward and saluted. "Welcome aboard the Raven." He smiled. "It is a pleasure to have people of your caliber onboard for awhile. I'm First Officer Dawkins. Captain Valez would have come down herself, but she has been laid up for a few days."

McCoy immediately snapped to attention. "What is wrong with her?"

"Well, we don't really know." He admitted. "We are a small vessel and we do not have a doctor on staff. We consulted with Starfleet medical via direct link and they seem to think it is some kind of flu, but she doesn't seem to be responding to the treatment they recommended. That is why I was glad to get the request to take you on. I was hoping you could help us."

"Of course." He nodded determined. "Take me to your sickbay and I'll get started."

Dawkins' eyes fell a bit and he replied, "We don't have one per se. We have a small area that we store supplies in, but this is a scientific research vessel that deals mostly with botanical matter. She has been staying in her quarters away from everyone else so the infection doesn't spread."

McCoy dug through his bag and removed a small first aid kit while mumbling about inept people and poor design of spaceships. "Go on." I encouraged him picking up his bag to carry it along with mine while he went on his way.

Dawkins called an assistant to escort me. The young man looked at his PADD and said, "According to the manifest, the two of you are domestic partners." I glanced at him for him to continue. I was almost used to it by now. "It's a good thing because we only have one spare. Well, here you are!" He pointed to a door and took off back down the hall to resume whatever he was doing before he met me. I looked at the door and sighed. Hopefully sharing a room with him wouldn't be as awkward as it was the last time.


	31. Chapter 31 Take the Good with the Bad

**Chapter 31- Take the Good with the Bad**

I didn't bother unpacking my things since I didn't know how long we would be on board, but I did remove the envelope that had now become battered from being in my bag for nearly two weeks. I sat on the edge of the bed and read the note written in Leti's hand. "Dr. Collins- I was glad to have met you and I hope you enjoyed your stay. Leonard would have a fit of he knew I was writing this, but I just wanted to tell you that I am glad he has you as a friend. I know you saw me in the orchard and I didn't mean to spy, but at least now I know that you will watch and take good care of him. I won't worry as much if I know there is someone up there who cares for him. He doesn't always act it, but he really is a gentleman and he will take good care of you too because I know him well enough to see that you mean something to him as well. He can't hide from his big sister! Be safe in your travels and I hope if he makes it home again soon, you come with him. –Leti."

I smiled and folded the letter before tucking it deep into my bag where he wouldn't accidently find it. Thankfully I wasn't alone in keeping an eye out for her brother, between Jim and I we tried our best. The door opened and shut with a hiss and McCoy tossed his kit onto the desk with a defeated sigh. He looked upset and I placed my hand on his back when he sat next to me. He rubbed his face vigorously in frustration and growled, "That Dawkins kid is about to get a promotion in the next few hours."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked feeling the tension in his muscles.

"Starfleet must have had some hack first year med student on the line. It wasn't even close to flu or anything like that. She is dying of radiation sickness she got when the planet she was on was hit by a shockwave of x-rays that were ejected from a black hole while she was on an away team collecting specimens. Likely everyone on this ship has it to some degree and I have absolutely nothing to work with! If I had a properly furnished sickbay I might be able to save her and treat everyone else, but as it is all I can do is watch and see who drops dead first."

I couldn't think of anything meaningful to say, so I just ran my hand across his back in a weak effort to…I didn't know what it was supposed to accomplish, but at least it was something. There was a sense of impending hopelessness that hung heavy; to know that the cure was out there but to have it just out of reach was maddening. It seemed rude just to wait for her to go, but there was nothing else we could have done. If her death would have been sudden it would have been easier to take, but sitting in silence while we counted the minutes was almost too much. "Are there any other ships in the area that might have what you need?" I finally choked out.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But even if there are they will be too late to help her. The way fluid is building in her lungs she will drown and suffocate before then. And if that doesn't get her, the pressure of trapped fluid on the brain will, or she will go into kidney failure trying to process all the excess drainage. Any way you look at it, it a fucking horrible way to go. And when I reported to Dawkins, I found out the kid is only a lieutenant and everyone else is either just enlisted or even cadets doing final projects. I know that research vessels don't see much action, but we are heading toward some of the more unknown parts of the quadrant and I would think Starfleet would like to have us map it all out first before sending in a shipload of kids."

I patted him on the back and stated, "I know it is late, but we should grab a snack from the cafeteria before turning in. We both know how the low nutrient thing turns out."

He smirked a little and replied, "You go on ahead. I don't have the stomach for it right now." He did look miserable and exhausted, so I left him there to wallow a bit over the impending addition to his body count even if it wasn't his fault.

The mess hall was quiet save for a few people sitting at a small table whispering tensely among themselves. It didn't seem a private matter, so I decided to join them and they graciously allowed me. I introduced myself and told them what I did on the ship, but they seemed to lose interest. Psychology was mostly a human venture and therefore not the focus of the ongoing research on the ship. While we also studied animals, psychologists generally didn't get around to plants, although I once heard that they would grow faster if you talked nicely to them.

"So I was telling Al here that there have been reports of Romulans spotted near the edge of the quadrant and even a few in the sector we are in." The young assistant named Jenkins whispered as though the Romulans could hear. "I just hope we don't run into them."

"What have they been doing?" I asked a little tense myself. Suddenly my tuna sandwich didn't taste so good.

"We don't really know. I have heard they have been robbing Federation ships and destroying them. I guess they are still pissed about us kicking their asses." Al chuckled. He was a big, gregarious man that worked in engineering. Somehow I couldn't imagine him fitting down the hatch to the engine rooms. "I've never seen one, myself, what are they like?"

I put my sandwich down and answered, "I wasn't on the Enterprise when they faced Nero, but I have had some experience with them and they are generally to be avoided." Completely, if at all possible.

"No shit." Jenkins laughed. "They destroyed Vulcan, that takes some seriously evil rage. People say Klingons are the worst, but at least they didn't obliterate an entire planet that was inhabited."

"I agree. I have personally dealt with both, and the worst thing about Klingons is the way they smell." I thought back to the awful stench that permeated the ship for days. "And on that pleasant note, I wish you goodnight because I can't eat another bite thinking about it." They laughed as I disposed of my tray and made a cup of chocolate pudding for McCoy. If there was anything I learned by sitting next to him at dinner so many times, it was that he had something of a sweet tooth that seemed to gravitate around all things chocolate.

When I got back to the room, the bathroom door was open and a wall of opaque stream permeated the small space. I could hear running water and an occasional tapping sound. If he was shaving, I didn't know how he could see what he was doing. "Did you save any hot water for me?" I taunted.

There was a little more splashing and the water stopped. He emerged from the fog in his pajamas drying his face with a towel and I thought it just a little strange he would shave before bed, most men I knew waited until morning. He crossed the floor and inspected the pudding I held out to him with a smile. He smelled of wet hair and a mix of sweet and spicy scent that suited him quite well, but I tried not to dwell on that. He draped the wet towel over his shoulder with a fling and said, "I wasn't really hungry, but seeing as how you brought it all the way back, I'd hate to see this go to waste." He dug into the cup clearly enjoying every bite of the sugary goodness.

I took my shower and while I was getting dressed, I yelled through the crack in the door what I had learned in the mess hall. He didn't seem impressed with hearsay or the fact that they had been seen near the border since they lived on the other side. "Still," he grumbled while I got my clothes ready for the next day, "if they have been spotted around here, that could be a problem. I wonder if Jim knows or has heard anything."

I climbed into bed and he began tossing pillows and blankets onto the floor. "What are you doing?" I asked amused.

"What does it look like?" He retorted. "Going to bed, same as you."

I patted the bed with my hand and told him, "I think we are past that now. Come on up here and sleep like a civilized human and be prepared to lose the battle for the blankets." He took the invitation and grunted happily when the lights went out.

He was quiet for a moment before his low, gruff voice said, "Morgan, I didn't ever get the chance to thank you for what you did back on Earth."

I slid my hand under the covers to gently pat his arm. "You don't have to." I whispered. "The look in your eyes when you met her at the door said it all. Besides, it was just my job; the same thing you said when you saved my life. I would say you pulled off the bigger feat and this is probably as close as I could ever come to paying you back."

He rolled onto his side to face me and said, "You don't owe me anything, you never did. If that were the case, I would completely own Jim's ass for all the times I pulled him back."

"Then maybe you should remind him of that next time you lose at poker." I smiled.

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but his eyes fell to my lips and chin with an exquisite aching that resonated with me because I felt it too. He slowly raised his hand to my face and traced the outline of my jaw as I leaned in for a delicious kiss and that was all it took for the remaining barriers to be broken.

Unlike Jocelyn's evaluation, I found him to be a patient, thoughtful, and generous lover who was exceedingly careful not to go faster than I wanted him to. And go slow I did, enjoying the exploration of the hardened angles of his body and drinking in his masculine scent. He was no Adonis by any means, but he did have an appealing average build with just enough definition to appreciate. The tingling of his hot breath as it brushed across my skin was elating and as a doctor, he knew things about the human body that served him well. I knew there was no one else I wanted more than him and for so long I had tried to ignore it, but it made that moment all the sweeter. All the waiting and the pent up frustration added a sense of urgency and release that washed over us as we lie in each other's arms wondering why we waited so damn long.

"Maybe we should just keep our thing behind closed doors." I mumbled into his chest while he ran his fingers through my hair. "Not hiding like Spock and Uhura, but you know, for professional reasons."

"You mean you think my examining your tonsils with my tongue in a hallway would raise questions?" He asked mockingly. "Ok, no PDA. I agree."

"I would just like to keep it casual like it is no big thing." I told him. He looked sharply down at me and I added, "Monogamous, but nonchalant. Is that better?" He let his head fall back on the pillow with a grunt. "It's business during the day, but when we are off duty it will be _our_ business."

"I get it." He chuckled. "So when we are on the clock nothing has changed, but you don't mind others knowing."

"Exactly." I confirmed. Something told me most wouldn't mind and a few would even be relieved. Now I just had to make sure that if this all went south that it was clearly not my fault; Jim would not hesitate to shoot me out an airlock because he had warned me in no uncertain terms against hurting his friend, and I had no doubt his revenge would be swift and severe if he had even the slightest suspicion I had.

McCoy's buzz came crashing down when he got a page from Dawkins asking him to come to the Captain's quarters immediately. He knew before he even got up what he would find, but he quickly got dressed and went anyway with a permanently etched scowl on his face. I was just finishing up in the shower when he got back. He poked his head into the bathroom and growled, "She's dead." I opened the curtain enough to look at him, but he seemed far more upset than he should have been. "But we have bigger problems. A warbird has been spotted nearby and Dawkins is almost shitting himself on the bridge. He may be the First Officer, but I am now the senior ranking officer on the ship. I have to try to give him a hand up there." He put his hands on his hips and muttered, "Jesus. I'm a doctor, not Jim Kirk."


	32. Chapter 32 Some Have Greatness

**Chapter 32- Some Have Greatness Thrust Upon Them**

I got dressed and ran to the bridge where McCoy was standing to the left of Dawkins with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. Dawkins sat awkwardly in the Captain's chair and looked at the blank view screen along with everyone else. The screen wasn't exactly blank, but it showed an empty star field and everyone looked at it nervously as though they expected something to materialize like a magic trick. "Anything on sensors?" McCoy asked tensely.

"Negative, Sir." A young man in a gold shirt replied. His accent sounded like his primary language may have been Spanish, but I couldn't exactly tell.

"When did this thing pop up?" McCoy asked no one in particular. "Did we actually see the damn thing or did we just get a blip on a screen?" Dawkins may have been the Captain, but McCoy seemed to be giving all the orders and running the show. God knows he probably had enough practice being with Jim to know what to do in sticky situations.

"Aye, Sir. I saw it." The man in gold replied. "At least I think that's what it was. It just disappeared."

McCoy's face grew darker and he barked, "Try sending out a hail. Even if they don't pick up, at least they will know we saw them." As predicted, there was no answer.

We all stood around awhile longer until McCoy shrugged. "Well, there's no point staring at something we can't see. If they wanted to attack or board, they would have by now. Still, we should try to group together. Send out a subspace hail requesting medical aid and see if we can get at least a few other ships without tipping them off if they are listening."

"But, Sir, what should I tell them if they answer?" The man in gold asked.

He thought about it for a minute and slyly replied, "Tell them we need granulocyte colony-stimulating factor and a DNA regenerator. I can't be sure any of you haven't been contaminated by the radiation."

The man nodded and Dawkins smiled up at him. "That is a great plan, Dr. McCoy. A little deceitful, but brilliant."

"Yeah, well out here honesty will get you nothing but your ass blown off, kid." He mumbled.

"Sir," The gold shirted man called, "I got a response from the Vico, but they are disabled and adrift right now. They already have aid from another ship on the way and they have what you need, but you would have to come get it."

"Goddamn it." He hissed. His plan didn't work out as he expected it to and Dawkins looked at him in shock. "Tell me you have a shuttle on this damn bucket of bolts."

"Aye, Sir." Dawkins reported. "I can show you. Do you know how to fly a personal craft?"

"Unfortunately." He growled. "It's like riding a bike. You fly one, you've flown them all." He noticed the surprise on my face and he added, "There was this time Jim and I were on the surface of a planet, and ….well you can probably fill in the blank yourself." Details may vary, but I was sure it had something to do with Jim becoming incapacitated and in need of medical care. I wanted to read his full medical record when I got back to the ship. I would bet Spock had to install a separate server just to hold all the information. As he turned to go, he quietly bent to whisper in my ear, "Can you clock out for a minute?"

I followed him to the shuttle bay where he waved Dawkins on. He looked back to me with an intensely uncomfortable urgency. "I don't like this." He whispered. "I don't want to leave you here with that kid running the show. At least back on the ship, Spock has a fucking clue what he is doing when he has to take over."

I nodded and replied, "I understand, but you said it yourself: if the Romulans really were sitting out there, they wouldn't wait this long to act. I am starting to think these guys were just seeing things. Their Captain just died and they are hearing rumors and they are scared. I'll stay here and try to keep them calm. You do what you have to and hurry back."

He gave a concise nod and looked around quickly before bending to give me a hurried kiss. When I smiled he justified it by saying, "We were off the clock." Just to underline his point, he acted as though he were inserting a timecard into a clock to go back to work as he left. I went back to the bridge and watched the small craft take off and bank sharply in the direction of the Vico. I quietly wished him a safe journey and began to understand his assertion that the galaxy was full of things that could go wrong. Suddenly space seemed vast, cold and lonely.

Dawkins returned shortly thereafter and reclaimed his throne. I stayed and chatted with the crew for awhile, listening to them tell me about their service so far and their families until the ambient mood settled into relative calm. I told them as much as I could about the Enterprise and her crew. The man in the gold shirt was named Hernandez and he relayed that he once met Sulu and a man that by his description sounded like Pavel once while on leave. The whole encounter consisted of Sulu smiling at him and letting him cut in line while checking out at a store, but to him it was a brush with greatness. Of course Al wanted to know all about engineering, but I could only relay .02% of what Scotty had rattled off to me. Still, he was impressed with the ship's warp capacity- something he said the Raven lacked since there was no practical purpose for a research vessel to travel that fast.

Hernandez abruptly turned to his control panel and pushed some buttons while listening intently. It seemed he did the jobs of Uhura, Sulu, and Pavel and I hoped he got some kind of bonus pay for that. "Sir, I just received a transmission from the shuttle. Dr. McCoy was delayed by a medical emergency on the Vico, but he is on his way back and should arrive in the next 25 minutes or so." It seemed trouble found him as often as it did Jim, or at least he was stuck cleaning up after trouble.

I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Hernandez turned to Dawkins with barely controlled panic. "Sir! We've just been scanned."

"By what?" Dawkins asked baffled. As far as we knew, we were the only ship for miles, but then again, exact distance can get all muddy in space when you deal with mind boggling measurements like light years and parsecs, yet even these could be traversed as quickly with warp as walking down to the corner convenience mart to pick up a gallon of milk. I still didn't have a firm grasp on the whole thing, it was probably just best left for Pavel and Sulu to work out.

"I'm not certain, Sir. The Vico is within range, but they would have no reason to…" His voice fell silent as a shimmering image filled the view screen until it solidified into a ship I had seen before. I knew immediately what it was and my heart sank. Before Dawkins could give his first order, the Romulans fired one well placed shot that shook the ship violently. The lights went out, leaving only emergency systems online, casting the bridge in an eerie shade of red and people scrambled to regain their positions.

_So they had been waiting and watching all this time, but why? _

They got a second shot in that sent sparks and bolts of electricity flying from the control panels. The bridge was permeated with the smell of hot wire and burnt flesh that was sickening. "Shields up!" I yelled looking for Dawkins in the smoke and darkness. I found him on the floor, bleeding and burnt, his blonde hair matted down, but a brave look on his face. He was dying and he knew it. I was reminded of the awful day I worked in sickbay the last time I was attacked by Romulans, and the amount of death and destruction that had resulted. The awful pile of bodies, and the ones who I stayed with until their eyes went dull when the last remaining vestiges of life were cast off were fresh in my memory.

_Where the hell was McCoy? I can't do this by myself. I can't save him._

"You have to protect them." He sighed. "Only the best can save them. Congratulations, First Officer."

I tried to protest. I wasn't qualified for this. I wanted to tell him I had only just graduated and my being on the Enterprise didn't mean I was some kind of god, but the trusting smile on his face silenced me. I wanted to hold out hope for him or at least stay there until he was no more, but I had a job to do. I wasn't born great, I hadn't achieved great things, but I was having it thrust on me with a vengeance and I had no choice but to take it.

"Hernandez!" I barked peering through the dissipating haze, "Are you ok?"

"Aye, Sir." Came his shaky voice. From what I could see, he had sustained a burn to his upper arm, but he didn't seem to be bleeding. With any luck the wound had been cauterized as soon as it was made.

"Good. Send out a distress signal and cross your fingers someone picks up." I sat in the Captain's chair with some hesitation and looked for the intercom button. "Anyone with any medical training report to your…supply closet and treat what you can until Dr. McCoy comes back." I had to believe he would return, even though I knew he was a sitting duck out there. "Dawkins is down, send someone up for him."

"Sir, the Vico is gone." Hernandez reported in a mystified tone. "She's no longer on the grid." I was just as baffled as he was. "It looks like she has been destroyed, Sir."

I looked straight ahead at the Romulan ship and squinted. They probably took a shot while we were scattered on the floor. Robbery obviously wasn't their motive. "Send the call anyway and see if you can contact McCoy. Tell him not to come back to the ship."

After a few tense moments, Hernandez sighed, "No response, Sir." He jumped when a light went off on his panel. "We have an incoming hail."

"On screen." I ordered, hoping it was a response to the distress call. I couldn't have been more wrong. My face went pale when a very familiar face came into view. He recognized me too and a twisted smile spread across his tattooed face, now sporting a nasty scar across his left cheek. I really hoped Jim was the reason for that. All this time I thought he was dead, but I was in sickbay the whole time and I never directly asked Jim what became of him. I guess I just assumed and I knew what that did…

"Saren." I greeted coldly.

His sardonic grin grew wider and a menacing chuckle escaped his lips as though he just couldn't believe his luck. I couldn't either. "One of them now?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"They offered a generous pay and benefit package. I can retire in 20 years." I replied flatly.

He huffed and leaned in a little closer and sneered, "I think we found something of yours. But what was it your Captain said, 'finders keepers?' Say goodbye to your doctor."

Hernandez switched the screen to see the Romulan ship tugging the shuttle with it's tractor beam. "Someone get to the transporter and see if you can get McCoy off that shuttle!" I yelled.

As if Saren heard the command, the ship sent one round into the shuttle, vaporizing it into a puff of fire and molten metal before my very eyes. A deafening silence settled over the bridge. I sat back in the chair unable to think. He couldn't be gone. I didn't just watch him die. He wasn't really dead. He couldn't be. I felt like I had died as well. A vast, empty, aching hole tore open in my gut and I couldn't breathe. What the hell was I going to tell Jim? Leti? His daughter?! It felt like the entire universe collapsed in on itself at that very moment.

"You should really be more careful with your communications." Saren mocked. "Just as well, I had a score to settle with Captain Kirk." He smirked again before ending the transmission to leave me drowning in my sorrow.

He accidently scored twice: he didn't just murder my crewmate, he took the man I had come to love from me. As much as I wanted to cry out in agony, I took a deep breath and promised myself time to mourn for him later. I was still on the clock and no matter how it hurt, I had to be a professional.

"Sir." Hernandez quietly called. "We have a response to the distress signal from the Enterprise."

I made him say it again because I couldn't believe my ears. A wave of relief washed over me temporarily. "Tell the operator to patch you through to Kirk and tell him to get his ass over here, pronto. Tell him I said so."

He looked away for a moment contemplating relaying such a highly unorthodox message to the Captain of Starfleet's flagship, but he did as ordered. He turned to me and smiled. "I have a James T. Kirk on the line and he wants to know who the hell you are."

He was going to love this. "Put him on screen."

Jim's bleary blue eyes blinked in disbelief when he saw me. "Collins?" He asked leaning in close to the monitor. "Christ! Is that really you?" A goofy smile crossed his face when he could finally believe his own eyes. I was never so relieved to see his face as I was then. I would have kissed his giant lips if it didn't seem so strange. He yawned and ran his fingers through his hair to make himself somewhat presentable considering he had just rolled out of bed. "It seems we are popular today. We got a call a few hours ago to rescue a disabled ship, and now they are telling me it's gone. What the hell's going on? Why are you the Captain? Where's Bones?" His questions came rapid fire as his brain came online and with each query, more dread and suspicion filled his voice.

"It is a very long story, but I am having a standoff with a Romulan ship. Not just any Romulan, either." Jim's eyes narrowed intensely, he knew who I was talking about. "The ship is damaged and I am not sure how much longer I can hold him off. I need your help, Jim."

He nodded with determination; of course he would come to my rescue….again. When it came to his crew members, they didn't come much more loyal or reckless than Jim Kirk. "Where's Bones?" He slowly reiterated. He knew that McCoy outranked me and should be the one sitting in the chair. The fact that he wasn't disturbed him greatly.

I took a deep breath to steel my nerves and replied, "He's dead, Jim. Saren killed him."

By the wide, disbelieving look in Jim's eyes and the way his mouth tried unsuccessfully to form words, the universe collapsed for a second time that night and I knew that he would stop at nothing to avenge his best friend's death. In the end, that was all I could hope for in memory of the man who had done so much for us and cared deeply in his own idiosyncratic way.

I ended the transmission and looked back toward the Romulan ship floating in the darkness. Although my heart ached terribly for what was lost, I hardened my resolve and prepared for war.


	33. Chapter 33 Zero Sum Game

**A/N: Lately has been full of glitches that won't let me update, add chapters, and now it won't let me respond to reviews. So- I will have to send out one big THANK YOU to all who have spent the time sending comments. I have received them, I just can't tell you how awesome you are one by one :( **

**Chapter 33- Zero Sum Game**

No one tried to converse with me during the silence that followed Jim's unspoken mourning. Maybe they knew, maybe they didn't, but it didn't matter. My stomach was sick with grief and I just hoped that I would live long enough to see Jim ride in like the knight in shining armor for me and the third horseman of the apocalypse, Death, for Saren.

I felt absolutely helpless. The ship was not armed with many defensive systems outside of blast shields, and I knew it was damaged. "Al," I called on the intercom, "give me a damage report. How bad is it?"

There was a long pause as he was probably expecting Dawkins' voice. "Uh, pretty bad, Sir. We are down to life support functions and the rest of the power is being diverted to the shields. If you want to fire, we will have to drop the shields." That was no option. I wanted him to work miracles like Scotty, but although he seemed to be competent, he was no Scotty.

"Bridge to medical. How's it going down there?" I asked dreading the answer. They couldn't work miracles any more than Al with few supplies and no medical doctors among them.

"We're holding, Sir." Came a woman's voice. "So far 12 lost and 17 wounded." 12 lost. I wondered how many of them could have been saved if I hadn't sent McCoy to his death. He would have stayed with just a word, I know he would have. His death seemed all the more senseless when he didn't absolutely need the supplies he went for; he only went to trick the Romulans.

"How do you know the Romulan Captain?" Hernandez inquired.

I sighed heavily. "You could say that he and I have some history." Some very dark and twisted history.

He thought about it and then apprehensively asked, "Do you think that the Enterprise will be able to save us?"

I regarded him with a flat expression. I couldn't give him false hope and didn't want to lie to him. "I don't know." I admitted. "But what I do know is that Jim Kirk is a brilliant man and the Enterprise is a mighty ship staffed by the best of the best. If we have any hope at all, it will hinge on Kirk's ability to either outsmart, outmaneuver, or overpower them with brute force. I have seen him do all three on various occasions, so I know if he fails it won't be for lack of trying."

"Sir, I have another hail from the Romulans." He reported.

I didn't want to see his ugly, scarred, tattooed face anymore. I didn't want to see him sneer and mock my pain. What I didn't expect to see was something like fear, but that was exactly what he displayed larger than life. "So, the mighty Kirk approaches." He growled. "And as much as I would love to personally thank him for his souvenir," he paused to lightly touch the scar on his face, "I have an offer for you."

I tried not to smile. The only thing I could think of to make him negotiate was that he was alone. There were no more warbirds sitting cloaked in formation, or at least not enough to take on Jim and live to tell about it. I sat up slightly in my chair and slyly asked, "And what do you have that I could possibly want to call off the dogs?"

He slowly smiled and an evil gleam flashed in his eyes. "Oh, I think I have something you want." He stepped aside to reveal two Romulans holding an unconscious McCoy up by his arms. Saren nodded and one of them pulled his head up by a handful of hair. He had been beaten and his face was bloody. Hernandez let out a small gasp, but I channeled Uhura and sat there stone faced even though I was so happy he was alive I could have danced a jig. "It took awhile to get him to talk, but as you know we are a persistent people. He tells us you are now an officer."

"I am." I confirmed gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

"Then fate has smiled on me twice. Not only do I find you again, but now you have added to my fortunes. An Old World human who is also a Starfleet officer. The Senate will be most pleased." He gave a low, throaty chuckle and Hernandez turned to look at me questioningly. I pretended not to notice so I wouldn't have to explain. "So, I propose a trade. I will give you back your doctor if you come to me." McCoy picked up his head and his expression clearly told me not to do it.

I sat there trying to think logically as Spock would. McCoy would not be happy, but we were on the clock and I couldn't let that interfere with what had to be done. If I declined and left McCoy on the ship, Saren would likely kill him because he knew that Jim would defeat him in battle and then he would destroy my ship. If I went, Saren would not kill me because I was too valuable to him. McCoy made a better Captain than I did and the crew would have a better chance surviving with him calling the shots.

And the brutal truth was Jim and I may have shared a few drinks and had a few laughs, but I wasn't his friend the way McCoy was. My death simply wouldn't mean as much, and I couldn't really fault him for that. That was just the cold, hard truth. And as for McCoy, what we had was great, but it wasn't the enduring storybook love that was strong and lasting. All we had time for was a one night stand and it was unfair to expect him to want more. Even if he did, perhaps it was best for me to go now before he got any more attached. I would have been happy for him to raise a drink to the sky in my memory on the anniversary of my death for a few years until the sting was gone and I was just a vague shadow in his memory.

"I will, on one condition." I replied trying to keep my voice steady. "Swear upon your honor that you or your crew will not destroy this ship." He squinted for a moment to consider it, but I knew that I had the power to set the rules. McCoy was of minimal value to him and the crippled ship was no threat. "Done." He agreed with a sick smile.

"Fine. Send two of your people with him and beam them on board. I will return with them." I instructed. I stood up on shaky legs when he disappeared from the screen to head to the transporter room. "Al, reroute the power to the transporters and meet me there."

Hernandez blinked slowly in disbelief. "Sir, you can't be serious." He protested.

"I am." I replied quietly. "Tell McCoy when he gets here that the Enterprise is on the way and tell him the Captain thinks he is dead." I didn't want Jim raining hellfire on the ship that was holding me hostage. "I guess you have the com until he gets here." He nodded and saluted with a solemn expression. I returned the gesture and left the bridge.

Al glanced nervously at me when I joined him by the console. "I hope you are doing the right thing." He mumbled checking his panel. "I thought you said the Romulans were to be avoided."

"They are." I replied looking at the pad resigned to my fate. "But sometimes you just have to face the music."

My heart jumped up into my throat as three pillars of light shimmered onto the pad. As soon as they materialized, the two Romulans threw McCoy off the pad face first. He coughed and slowly pushed himself up from the ground until he sat back on his heels with an exhausted sigh and a faraway look in his eyes. I squatted by him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked to me with irritation and despair, but I knew that it was for the best and trusted him completely to get me out. The two Romulans grabbed me by the arms and roughly hauled me up on the pad. I nodded at Al to start the process and I looked McCoy in the eye until he faded from sight because I didn't know when or if I would ever see him again.

The Romulan ship was just as I remembered it: stifling hot, dimly lit, and smelled of rust. Saren's slow and deliberate footsteps resonated off the metal walls like gunshots until he stopped just in front of me with a smirk. "Well, well." He mused. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" I asked sarcastically.

He reached up to wrap his large hand around my jaw and shake my head back and forth. "You have no idea." He growled menacingly before knocking me out with a blow to the side of my head.

When I woke up, I felt sick between the heat and the shearing of neurons in my brain. I felt sweat roll down my forehead, leaving an itchy trail that I found I couldn't scratch because I had been placed in restraints on a table. I rolled my head to the right and saw a Romulan standing at a console. I blinked until the figure came into focus and I was relatively sure it wasn't Saren.

"Welcome back." The figure greeted without ever turning around. I must have been on a biobed that fed my vitals to the computer. "Saren is a curious man. He has questions that he thinks you have the answers to. It is my job to get them." He said turning to me. His face reflected nothing and that frightened me. He took a few purposeful steps in my direction and continued in his flat voice, "I think you will find me fair. I ask a question and you give me an answer without lying. If I think you are lying, you will be punished. If you refuse to answer, you will be punished until you do. The rules are easy and your time with me short if you choose not to drag this out by attempting to be a hero to spare your comrades. Now, there was a female that worked on this ship named Sindari. We know that she defected to the Federation. Where is she now?"

Naturally, I had to test the waters by disavowing all knowledge about her and he promptly kept his promise by giving me a slap to the mouth hard enough to make my skin sting and my eyes water. After a few trails, the scientist in me found his promises trustworthy, so I admitted that I had once met her but didn't know where she was currently. He didn't believe me although I was telling the truth and each punishment was worse than the last until I finally convinced him by sticking to the story enough times. He went on to ask about the technology and weapons systems of the Enterprise and I held out as long as I could until the pain became too great and the blood began to flow.

All the while I tried to do as Sulu described and pull so far into myself that it didn't matter, but I simply lacked the discipline he had. Just when I thought I had almost managed it, a shock of pain would pull me out again. In the end I just did what I always had, go numb and simply not care. It was not about being tough or even being loyal to the crew, it was raw and pure survival. He would ask questions that I sometimes answered and sometimes I didn't, but I had to count on the fact that he would either grow frustrated or tired enough to give me a break. It was all I had left; none of the psychological tricks I knew would work on someone who saw me as nothing more than an object. Saren watched with interest, tilting his head slightly and enjoying the gasps and growls that I made when it became too intense.

"Captain, the Enterprise has arrived and they are transporting occupants of the craft." One of his men informed him.

He waved at my torturer to stop and ordered, "Let them. I vowed I would not destroy the vessel they were on, but now I can destroy them on the ship. Hail them."

When Jim's fiercely determined face appeared, my heart leapt with joy. He stared down at Saren like a Roman god of war: his eyes dark and hard, his jaw set and his mouth drawn into a tight frown. He was simply frightening and definitely all business. The Iowa farm boy was gone and the Romulan ass kicking Starfleet Captain was in full effect. The fact that he had not come in guns blazing told me McCoy got the message and relayed it to Jim. I just wished I could have seen his face when he saw his friend was alive if not completely well.

McCoy appeared from the direction of the lift and stood to Spock's left with his arms folded. I tried to mask my confusion when I noticed the flash of light that glinted off Uhura's earpiece as it rested in Spock's ear. He casually reached up and adjusted it and I wondered if it was because of his sensitive hearing, or because his ears were shaped a bit differently than hers and it was uncomfortable. I also noticed that he was not exactly at his station; he was positioned midway between his and Uhura's. Jim and Sulu were as they always were, even if Sulu did look like he was concentrating a bit too hard on his station. But Pavel was missing and in his seat was Uhura, wearing a gold shirt over her red uniform. I didn't know what they were up to, but I tried not to let on that it was anything but normal. I had to trust that they had a plan that would save my life.

Saren motioned to the evil man who pulled a lever and deftly swung the table into an upright position so I was more or less standing. McCoy slowly uncrossed his arms and silently asked if I was alright. I gave him a hard look that reassured him I would hold out as long as he needed me to, but secretly I wanted them to hurry. "I don't think you want to fire on us." Saren said in a mocking tone gesturing to me. "Finders, keepers, Kirk."

Jim didn't bat an eye and behind him Spock actually looked bored as if to curtly inform the Romulan that it had been done before. Next. "I would really hate to lose a crew member, but let me assure you that your destruction is more important. If I let you leave with her, she is already lost to me." He said coldly. McCoy's eyes subtly darted to Jim, he obviously hadn't received the memo on the grand plan.

Saren paused for a moment as though he couldn't decide if Jim was serious or not. When he finally spoke, his voice was full of dark sarcasm. "Then if it is war you want, allow me the honor." He again gestured to the Romaulan next to me and he picked up a device that exploded in a series of jagged knives when he pushed a button. He looked directly at me with his dead eyes and slowly pushed the device deep into the soft flesh of my stomach. My mouth flew open and it hurt to breathe. The pain was excruciating and I could feel the serrated blades chewing their way through the fibers of my body. I tried to look straight ahead and not react, but I felt like passing out. Everything went fuzzy and I knew this was the end.

The last thing I heard was Jim yell, "Fire!" before the ship shuddered under the force of his wrath and everything went black.


	34. Chapter 34 Game Plan

**Chapter 34- Game Plan**

I woke up to what seemed like Hell itself. Unbearably hot, darkness filled with thick, choking smoke, frightening figures dressed in black moving quickly and yelling in the shadows. I might have thought I was in Hell had it not been for the image of the Enterprise floating on the flickering screen. Jim didn't belong here no matter his tendency toward fornication, surely all of the good things he had done would count for something in the end. I held my head up long enough to see another volley of red photon torpedoes streak from the ship and hit the Romulan vessel with a shuddering force that sent everyone scrambling anew; I was almost thankful I was being held into place by my restraints.

I let my head fall and tried to force out the blackness that was creeping in around the edges of my visual field. I was not McCoy, but I knew very well what was going on. There was not enough blood left in my body to supply all of the organs and tissues that required it, so my heart was struggling to pump what was left faster in order to keep up. The brain alone consumes about 20% of the body's energy- the inefficient Hummer energy hog if you will- and it was very resourceful. When faced with a shortage of oxygen and nutrients, it will begin to take non-essential functions offline in favor of parts that control breathing and heartbeat. Unfortunately, that meant the entire neocortex was the first to go since the brain figured that consciousness was not essential to survival. Sometimes evolution doesn't always get it right.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at the blood dripping onto my boots nor the unimaginable gaping wound that it came from. If I didn't look, I could pretend that it wasn't that bad, I could believe that if Jim could get me out of here that McCoy could still fix it and put everything back to neat. That was what he did: he worked miracles and pulled off the impossible; he had done it for me before and he could do it again if I could just hold on long enough for my crewmates to rescue me. I knew they would, it was just a matter of racing against the clock. I tried to breathe slowly and remain calm to keep the blood from rushing out any faster and tried not to move too much. I thought of the one person that absolutely exuded peace and centered tranquility: Sulu stayed with me in my mind and I didn't feel so alone. I remained still, borrowing from his quiet strength and visualizing his warm smile. And I waited.

The ship took a particularly hard hit and I could actually hear metal wrenching away from the hull. We seemed to be drifting clockwise from our previous position and one Romulan yelled, "All sensors are down, shields down to 25% and thrusters are offline." None of this apparently bothered Saren, who was too blinded by rage and the thirst for revenge to see that he had no hope of victory. He viciously yelled the order to route all remaining power to the weapons banks and unload on the Enterprise. "Sir, this is madness!" The Romulan desperately protested. "The Federation vessel will destroy us once we drop the remaining shields."

Saren's voice roared in the eerie silence that befell the disabled ship. "Coward! Have you no honor? Better to die fighting in battle than run or surrender to the lowly humans. We will remain to fight until we are no more."

Everything on the ship went black except for the glowing white hull of the Enterprise on the screen. There came a rapid fire blasting sound as each round left the Romulan ship and crossed the distance between them to dissipate into the forward shields with a small burst of light. The shield sparkled and illuminated like the Aurora Borealis as waves of energy were absorbed. It would have been beautiful if I hadn't known that Jim and the rest of the crew were being shaken to bits inside. Despite the heavy assault, Jim didn't fire back. All he needed was one more shot to finish them, but he sat there and took it and this baffled the Romulans as much as it did me.

I flinched when a hand abruptly covered my mouth from around the side of the table. I strained to see in the dark, but I couldn't detect anything. A soft whisper floated to my ear and as soon as I heard the familiar voice I wanted to cry. "Shhhh. Don't make a noise. I vill get you out of here." He slowly and carefully unbuckled the restraints by feel since he couldn't see any better than I and he couldn't risk using a flashlight in the darkness least he draw attention to himself. When he quietly laid the last strap aside he leaned in close to ask, "Can you valk on your own? We have to get to the back of the ship near the shuttle hatch vhere the interference isn't so bad for Scotty to beam us back."

There was an unusual timbre to his voice that I hadn't quite heard before. It was darker, more determined than his everyday friendly pitch and at that moment I saw him in a completely different light. He had bravely risked his life by boarding an enemy vessel to save his crewmate that for all he knew was already dead. There was no doubting that he was anything but a man; he was far more mature and experienced than his 17 years would indicate and I would forever be grateful to him.

He didn't wait for me to answer and he was right to be so wary. The shields on the Enterprise began to flicker and some of the shots got through to damage and mar the pristine hull with ugly, black scorch marks. It was like seeing Helen of Troy with a black eye and if we didn't hurry, the ship could sustain serious damage and put lives in danger. He threw my arm around his shoulder and supported as much of my weight as he could while we tried to quickly but quietly to make an escape.

I could feel the wound reopen wider with every step and the pain made me nauseous, but he kept whispering encouragements that kept me moving toward the goal. When the shuttle bay doors were in sight, he used his free hand to remove his communicator from his belt and flip it open. The screen automatically illuminated to compensate for the dim light, drawing the attention of the Romulans. He muttered something I assumed was a curse word in Russian and began dragging me faster toward the doors. The added strain was too much and I fell to the floor with my head spinning. He doubled back, feet pounding on the metal floor even though the Romulans opened fire with phasers. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and fired with his phaser at the Romaulans with the other while he drug me along with all of his might toward the finish line. I heard him growl a few times, but he kept tugging and firing as fast as he could pull the trigger until we were safely through the doors and he locked them from the inside although it was only a temporary solution.

"Mn ye bowl na." He fell next to me gasping and breathing heavily. His voice sounded pained. The world spun around me and I was barely aware of my surroundings. After all I had waited for, I didn't want to die on the floor of a Romulan shuttle bay, but the darkness was dragging me deeper down and I found I didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. I could faintly hear the Romulans kicking the door in and Pavel yelling, "Scotty! Get us out of here! Spe sheets!" But he sounded so far away even though I knew he was practically laying on me. Then I felt light and I thought that must have been what death felt like. I was dissipating slowly into the universe and it didn't seem such a bad way to go.

Out of the haze, I felt myself pull back together and bright light made its way through my closed eyes. I became aware of a heavy weight across my midsection that was suspiciously similar to what I imagined a 17 year old Russian to be. I opened my eyes and peered through the brightness of the transporter room to see Pavel lying across me slowly stirring and coming to life. He was wearing his black undershirt, a good portion of which had been burned away on his right side revealing a nasty wound that bled freely. I let my head fall back and I closed my eyes, so very tired and thinking it almost funny that we made it this far only to die with our blood mingling on the pad. I should have been disturbed by it, but I wasn't because at least I wasn't going to die alone.

I was brought back around by the sound of footsteps landing heavy by my head and a few light slaps to the face. "Wake up, Collins!" McCoy barked. "Stay with me." I forced my eyes open enough to see him leaning over me with an intense scowl, his eyes absolutely on fire with determination. I tried to force a smile, but nothing happened; I simply had nothing left and my eyes drifted shut again. Pavel groaned in pain when he was lifted off me. "Scotty, get him up to sickbay and tell the interns to get started on him." His voice was drifting further away along with the pain. Everything was peaceful even if I was a little cold. "Goddamn it, Collins!" His voice drifted through the darkness. "Don't you die on me." I didn't want to be part of his body count, but there was really nothing I could do about it. I had gone as far as I could on sheer will. At least I could be satisfied knowing that I died among friends who had tried their best rather than in the company of Romulans.

There was nothing but blackness. Occasionally I could hear voices faintly talking in hushed whispers intermingled with the nothingness. "Bones, seriously man." Jim pleaded. "I get it, but you have to sleep sometime or you won't be worth a damn to anybody."

"Don't lecture me about what I need, Jim." His voice was gruff and irritated.

There was a heavy sigh and the sound of approximately 150 pounds of flesh and bone hitting the floor. A pause and then a female voice commented, "He will be really pissed at you when he wakes up."

Spock didn't sound at all worried. "It was the only logical solution. You were correct about his condition, Captain. Perhaps it would be advantageous to take this opportunity to treat him while he is unconscious and therefore unable to further protest."

Jim's voice sounded weary. "Sounds good, Spock. Help me get him up onto a table."

Sometimes strange thoughts floated through my head. I wondered who would care for my jar of sand if I didn't make it. I was certain it would feel lonely and abandoned. No one could appreciate it as I did. I knew very well that my sand was non-sentient and therefore had no feelings one way or another about my existence, but I couldn't stop obsessing.

"How are you feeling, Pavel?" If a voice could be said to smile, Sulu's did.

"Like I have been shot." Pavel chuckled.

"Yeah, looks like they got you pretty good." He admitted. "But Dr. McCoy says you will be fine. He only gave me a few minutes, but I wanted to come down to see how you were. I will come back when I can spend more time."

"Thanks, Hikaru."

"Anytime, man. You were awesome down there." I didn't need to see Pavel's eyes to know they lit up.

I felt a finger trace its way across the back of my hand and I knew it was McCoy. He would have made sure no one was looking before allowing himself the small indulgence. He was, after all, still on the clock. I assumed he was able to put Humpty back together again, working his magic once more by conjuring up yet another miracle. Rather than add to his body count, I was one he managed to snatch out of the jaws of death against all odds.

I had emerged enough from the thick inky haze of drug induced sleep to open my eyes. The room was dimly lit for the night hours, casting long shadows along the walls of sickbay. I rolled my head to the left to see McCoy fast asleep in a chair next to the bed. His face was etched with worry even as he slept and I wondered how long he had been there. To my right was Pavel, resting peacefully as the monitors around him softly beeped in a steady rhythm.

I winced as for the first time I had to face pain in a fully conscious state. While I was submerged in the darkness, it was an ever present vague sense of unease that existed on the fringes, but now it was an all consuming maddening sensation that burned like fire in my belly. I broke out into a sweat and my heart began pounding harder. McCoy woke with a small jump and reflexively looked up at the monitors before turning his gaze to me. There was a guarded sense of relief in his eyes, but he was still on high alert. He was on his feet with hypo in hand when he bent to whisper, coming so close I could feel his soft lips brush against my ear and the tingling sensation of his breath as it swirled across the sensitive skin temporarily dulled the agony. "You need something for the pain, but none of the non-addictive meds are strong enough for what you need. I will have to give you something heavier. Will you be ok?" I nodded quickly. I just wanted the pain to stop and opiates were never my thing anyway. So long as I didn't take too much for too long, I didn't see myself getting hooked, although it was nice that he remembered and saw to it personally so the rest of the staff wouldn't have to be let in on my dirty little secret.

Thankfully, relief came quickly and I was once again drowsy. McCoy took a few minutes to check on Pavel before returning to his seat with a weary sigh. His eyes were dull with fatigue and he looked as though he hadn't properly slept in days despite his own injuries. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open, but I wanted to talk with him if only for a little bit just to assure myself it wasn't all a dream. "You did it." I slurred lazily. "You fixed me. I knew you would." It was clear by the look on his face he wasn't so sure of himself and a good part of him still expected it all to go to hell somehow.

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I knew I was dreaming when my mind replayed images I knew were old memories. I dreamed of McCoy and I watching the sun rise on the beach and the cool sensation of the sand on my bare feet. The shock and joy that came when Spock smiled over his shoulder at me. The way Jim's eyes lit up when he laughed and small lines that formed at the corner of his eyes. Dancing under the moon and the smell of peaches in the Georgia night air. Uhura's smug smile radiating across the galaxy at Bowman and the way she maintained an elegant style and grace even when she was vengeful that I could never manage. The unrushed stillness of Pavel when he ate and played cards with me every night when I couldn't hear. That one magical moment when McCoy dropped his guard and his eyes revealed his soul for the first time. Scotty's irrepressible good nature and the ease with which he could switch from drinking buddy to saving us by doing the impossible again and again. And of course Sulu, who didn't know that he was able to comfort me while I was on the Romulan ship by his very essence even though he wasn't actually there. There was no pain, no bad memories; just good ones that reminded me of what it was all for.


	35. Chapter 35 The 411

**Chapter 35- The 411**

The first time I tried to sit up, I feared I had undone everything McCoy had worked on. Admittedly, I had stopped taking the pain meds because I absolutely hated the disembodied feeling that came with it, and I didn't really ask if I could move yet. It had only been about a day and a half since Pavel had rescued me, but it seemed like ages ago with all the drifting in and out of consciousness and whatnot. Drugs have a way of screwing up a person's perception of time; not that mine was really ever any good to begin with. I think I was the only person on the ship that wore a watch. How everyone else just seemed to know what time it was remained a complete mystery to me.

"Are you ok, Doctor?" Pavel asked looking up from his PADD. He was already sitting up and I was a little disappointed that he beat me to it.

"Never been better." I gasped struggling to prop myself up on my elbows. It was a small achievement, but to me it felt like climbing Everest. "How are you?" I asked once I caught my breath.

He smiled a little and replied, "I vas hoping to be released today, but the nurse said Dr. McCoy vas busy."

I gave a dry chuckle. "Which means he is asleep in his office."

It had apparently never occurred to him that the nurse was speaking in code, but at least he found it somewhat humorous. It wasn't like he was going to leave sickbay and go to work on the bridge anyway; he knew as well as I that he would be discharged with a medical leave so there was no point in being in a hurry. He turned his attention back to his PADD and began tapping buttons furiously with a determined look on his face. After a few minutes, he tossed it with a defeated sigh.

By this time I had managed to fully extend my arms behind my back. I felt like the tortoise racing a hare, but slow and steady would win the day and something told me I shouldn't go too fast. To be honest, something told me I shouldn't be attempting at all, but not all voices in one's head were worth listening to. "What are you doing?" I asked nodding toward his discarded PADD.

"Doom 7. Sulu brought it for me so I could pass the time. Stupid game cheats." He sulked glaring at it with loathing. I tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. "Maybe you should lie down. If Dr. McCoy sees you he vill be wery angry." He suggested tentatively.

"Well, I am kind of committed here." I smiled trying to pull myself backwards enough to reach the controls for the bed so I could sit up. "And he will get over it." Pavel's eyes went wide as he looked just over my shoulder. My heart sank deeply in my chest. "He's standing back there, isn't he?" It really wasn't so much a question as it was a foregone conclusion. Pavel gave a small nod and I sighed in defeat.

The sound of slow and deliberate footsteps approached, dragging out the anticipation of the wrath that I knew was going to be aimed at me. He came to a stop between our beds, arms folded tightly and a wearing a particularly deep scowl. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" He asked in a measured, low voice. I closed my eyes and started chuckling. What else could I do? I had been caught like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar and there was no plausible excuse to be made for the awkward position I was contorted in. "So this is the thanks I get for letting you wake up. The minute I turn my back you are trying to crawl away. I swear you are as bad as Jim." He scolded. "Am I going to have to put you in restraints?"

My smile faded and a small shock of fear set in. Admittedly I had little experience with being put into restraints, but the times I had were anything but positive and the thought of enduring it again induced a little panic and dread. Truthfully, I didn't know if he was joking or not and that made it worse. I knew he had done it before to Jim and others. I silently begged him not to with pleading eyes. He took a deep breath, not immediately realizing his mistake. He slowly unfolded his arms and swallowed hard. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it' he seemed to say. I was relieved that it was just a careless remark and forgave him with a small nod. The whole time, Pavel looked back and forth between the two of us as though he knew something was going on, but couldn't quite figure out what.

McCoy furrowed his brow and quickly turned his attention to Pavel. He examined his midsection, left thigh, and right arm before nodding solemnly. "Alright, kid. You can go, but take it easy for a few more days and don't go swashbuckling with Sulu until I say so. Got it?" Pavel nodded eagerly as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table with such apparent ease it made me envious. If he was in any pain he was hiding it well, but I doubted it because McCoy seemed to have a sixth sense for things like that and he could often catch even the best of them red handed. If he tilted his head slightly and squinted at you during an exam it meant he was on to you and he had a very sensitive radar. It also meant you had just earned yourself a lecture of indeterminate length and that was often worse than whatever you were attempting to hide, so it was best to just be honest with him. At least that was the conclusion I had long ago come to; Jim, however, still found sport in trying.

"Thank you wery much, Sir." Pavel said quietly gathering his things. "I feel much better."

McCoy frowned and busied himself with pretending to organize items on a nearby cart. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of my sickbay, kid." He mumbled uncomfortably.

Pavel looked at the older man in slight amusement. Even he seemed to know that in his own gruff way what he really meant was 'you're welcome.' He turned his blue eyes to me and added, "I hope you feel better soon, Dr. Morgan." I thought it funny how he could never quite just call me by my first name when he was off duty ever since that night we sat on the grass at the dorms of the Academy so long ago.

"Thank you, Pavel." I responded with a smile. "Thanks for coming for me and getting me off that ship even though you got hurt in the process." McCoy's eyes flicked toward us momentarily, but he quickly refocused on his task with renewed intensity as though he felt he shouldn't be listening. Or he felt guilty.

Pavel's eyes softened as he casually shrugged. "Pa zhall oosta. It vas the right thing to do. Ve help each other and that is the vay it is." Out of the corner of my eye I saw McCoy nod slightly in affirmation. "You helped me vhen my brother died and I help you vhen you need it. It is nothing, really."

"Pavel!" Sulu's voice exclaimed from the doorway. "I was just coming to see you. Are you leaving?"

"I'm trying to kick him out." McCoy grumbled. "The kid doesn't have sense enough to go. If he hangs around much longer I have some new medications I am dying to try out on some poor bastard."

Sulu smiled warmly at his friend and gave him a light slap on the shoulder before turning to me. "Hey, Morgan. Glad to see you are finally awake. Every time I came, you were out. How are you feeling?" He appeared to be genuinely interested and not just asking out of social custom. Sulu didn't really do pointless politeness, he generally meant every word he said.

"Better than before." I smiled. "Thanks to you guys." I decided to tell him about his specific contribution later in private; I didn't want to embarrass him. "Seeing your faces on the other side was a huge relief even though it was a little frightening being shot at."

Sulu laughed and said, "I can imagine! But we were going soft on them until Pavel could get in and out. We couldn't go full power with you on board."

His comments reminded me of the bizarre placement of the crew. "Yeah, mind filling me in on the details of the plan? Why was Uhura in Pavel's seat and why did you look like you were trying to figure out your console like it was the first time you had ever seen it?" McCoy stopped fiddling with the items on the cart and turned toward us with interest; he probably hadn't heard the whole story either.

Pavel and Sulu looked at each other and laughed loudly. "It was his fault!" Sulu accused pointing at Pavel. "Ok. So once Dr. McCoy told us what happened and that you were on the Romulan ship, we had to throw something together quick. We decided that Pavel was probably the best person to go because I had to pilot the ship and Saren already knew the Captain and Spock and would know that something was up if he didn't see them. Scotty had to stay to run the transporters and also in case we needed a miracle from engineering."

"And I was busy with the crew of the Raven." McCoy added folding his arms.

"Right, but the Captain vas already dead set against you going back anyway." Pavel replied. "But he also thought that Saren might remember that there vere two people at the front of the bridge and no one really pays attention to the back of the room because Uhura's station is not so obvious. So I gave my yellow shirt to Uhura and she sat in my chair and Spock took her earpiece so it looked like he vas also the communications officer. If Saren never saw me, he vouldn't know I vas missing." Pavel explained.

Sulu began laughing again and interjected, "And this is where I almost lost it." He struggled to subdue his reaction a little. "I mean, I know it wasn't funny with you being strapped to the table and seeing what they did to you." He frowned slightly, but slowly began cracking up again. "But it kind of was because while we were watching you on the monitor, Pavel was crawling against the wall under the screen on his hands and knees to the lift making these hilarious faces when Saren talked. I had to look hard at my station to keep from laughing my ass off."

Pavel blushed slightly at his own antics while he chuckled. I wasn't angry at him, I could appreciate the need for gallows humor in such a tense situation. "So I vent to the transporter room and vaited. The Captain told Scotty to ratchet the power to the photon banks down so he could fire at the Romulans and not destroy them. He had to damage the wessel enough to disable the sensors so they vouldn't know that I had boarded and buy time for me to find you."

"So that was why he stopped firing back even though the Romulans were throwing everything they had at the ship." I stated. "You were already on board and he didn't want to risk blowing us up with another shot."

"It was bad enough we accidently caused a hull breach with one of the shots." Sulu lamented. "We didn't know how much time we had before the life support systems failed and the two of you would be up the creek, so we waited it out until we heard from Pavel. It was a little hairy on our side because the shields began failing and we were taking hits. Spock was in the process of rerouting power from non-essential systems to the shields when we got word from Scotty that you were back and then he called for medical."

"We already knew!" McCoy defended as though his department's competency was just called into question. "My God, man! I have eyes the same as you, I saw what they did. But the lifts were on that hobgoblin's list of 'non-essential' systems and we had to climb like rats through a maze down the Jefferies tubes with all our equipment. Damn it! They cut us off at the knees and still expect us to be Johnny on the Spot!"

Sulu put his hands up in mock surrender and smiled to placate the cranky doctor, he didn't want any trouble. "And you still pulled it off, as always." He said in a conciliatory tone. McCoy narrowed his eyes at him; he didn't like being patronized in the slightest. Sulu moved on thinking that it was time for evasive maneuvers. "Anyway, as soon as we got the message, I held the launch button down on the Captain's orders until the ship was destroyed."

I looked at him with a mixture of relief and regret. "So Saren is dead. He is no more." Sulu nodded solemnly and I continued, "There is no possibility that he could still be out there and come back someday?"

A smile quickly flashed across his face because I probably sounded like a frightened child asking about the boogeyman under the bed, but he knew that I just needed reassurance after all that he had done. I had to know from the man who had personally unleashed hell on him that I would never see his menacing tattooed face again. "I don't see how it would be possible." He replied softly. "I guess you could say he is still out there, albeit in molecular terms, but we will never see him again." He shifted his weight uneasily and added, "I have proof if you don't believe me. I knew Pavel would want to see it, so I recorded it on an info chip." McCoy shot him a fierce warning glare and I wondered if he broke protocol by doing so.

"If you say so, then I believe you." I stated. "I know you wouldn't lie to me." The fact was I did trust him. He had always been nothing short of forthcoming with me before and there was no reason he would pull punches now. Not with something like this, even if McCoy was staring him down and that took a lot of courage.

"Alright, visiting hours are over." McCoy growled. "Now get out before I personally kick your asses out the door."

Sulu and Pavel both nodded at him and his eyes trailed them all the way out the door just to be sure they didn't get distracted along the way. He relaxed with a heavy sigh and turned back to his cart, although it seemed he had lost the heart to finish what he had started. That was unusual for him. "What's on your mind?" I asked quietly while I tried to readjust myself. My arms were going numb from supporting my weight. He helped me sit up perhaps because he knew that arguing would get him nowhere. We were both getting better about choosing our battles, and I knew when he made no attempt to answer that I was also looking at a lost cause if I continued to push him. He would eventually tell me at another time, or in another setting but any further attempts would be met with stony silence, so I tried a different line of questioning. "When do I finally get to go?"

He snorted and removed a scanner from the cart. "In a hurry to run out of here, aren't you?"

"Sickbay is the kind of place that is nice to visit, but you don't want to live here." I smiled. "Not that this isn't a nice little place you have here, but I like sleeping in my own bed."

He read the results on the scanner with a neutral expression. "There is still more inflammation than I would like," he mused, "according to this, you should be hurting like hell."

I casually shrugged. "It's not so bad if you don't think about it." I silently cursed myself when I realized I had tripped his BS radar. I had to admit, it wasn't that good of a lie to begin with so I shouldn't have been surprised it didn't work.

He sat on the side of the bed and quietly reminded, "There are alternatives, you know." That was what his mouth said, but his concerned expression added, 'I can't stand watching you suffer.' It was touching and I couldn't deny him, not after all he had done to get me where I was.

"Ok." I reluctantly agreed. "But only if you can tell me that what you give me won't make me feel strange and you agree to let me go to my room."

His lips pulled into a frown while he carefully considered my proposal. "Yes to the first, and I make no promises on the second, but we will see how you are doing at the end of the shift. Good enough?" He was at least willing to meet me halfway and that was quite an accomplishment in and of itself. At least it wasn't a flat refusal and I recognized that he was just trying to look out for my best interest over his own preferences. He was playing by the rules because he was on the clock and it was just business; that was our new deal.


	36. Chapter 36 Welcome to My World

**Chapter 36- Welcome to My World**

True to his word, at the end of the shift he returned to again frown and grumble about how things were not progressing as he wanted them to and how the whole damn encounter was a catastrophe and that led to kvetching about Romulans in general. Through it all I said nothing, thinking it best to just let him vent in the hopes it would make for a better outcome for me. Eventually it did-sort of. He reluctantly agreed to let me go under the condition that I page him directly if anything went wrong and I had to agree to allow him to check up on me at his discretion and administer medication as he saw fit. The last bit seemed a bit too close to coercion, but if I declined I knew it would be another night in sickbay for me. It was blackmail, but I wanted to be in my own quarters more than I wanted to preserve my independence and rights as a patient.

Standing up was the worst. As my abdominal muscles stretched, they felt like tight rubber bands that had to further elongate and the pulling sensation was almost sickening, but at the same time I tried not to show it too much because McCoy might rethink his offer. I was reasonably sure he knew, but wasn't that to be expected? Thankfully, I found that the more I walked the better it got as everything resettled into its proper configuration and proportion.

"You know, you were kind of lucky." McCoy informed me as we slowly walked toward the lifts. "I don't know if Chekov knew what he was doing, but his weight on the wound was enough pressure to stop the bleeding. That alone probably saved your life." The truth was, I didn't know why he did it. It may have been an accident, he may have just fallen that way when he was shot, or he may have been trying to protect me from the incoming fire and that last thought disturbed me a little. It was one thing for him to do his job, but quite another to use his own body as a shield to spare me any more damage. I made a mental note to talk to Jim about it.

I hadn't seen my own quarters in over two months, but it was just as I had left it except for a box that rested on my desk. "Uh…you don't have to open that now." McCoy said nervously. "It can wait for later. Right now you should probably just rest." Of course all that did was pique my interest because by the tense quality of his voice, I knew he had something to do with it. Intrigued as I was, I let it slide and gracefully took the hypo of pain meds in the neck so he could go about his business. I smiled as he left with one last wary glance; I was convinced the medicine was more for his own comfort than mine, but at any rate his paranoia would bring him back around soon.

Rest would have to wait, what I wanted most was a hot shower. It felt better than usual to be clean and rid of the permeating sterile smell of sickbay. I ran my fingers over the chaotic mess of interwoven pink scar lines that crisscrossed my stomach. It was the first time I actually had the courage to look and I was glad I didn't before. If that was what was left after it had been repaired, I couldn't have imagined what it looked like open. While I should have been angry or frightened at what had been done, I wasn't. I felt nothing in particular about it just as one may not think twice about a paper cut and it was then I understood how the away team felt.

On some level you could overlook the scars you accumulated because it is part of the job. The comfort did not lie in the fact that you survived, it was that you were not alone. Pavel's words began to make sense- the crew all depended on each other because survival out here was a group effort. Sometimes you stumble and fall, but you know someone will be right behind you to help you up and carry you along until you could walk on your own again. No one was keeping score because you could very well be the one to step in when duty called.

I put on pajamas and couldn't resist any longer, I had to open the box. Inside was a simple black frame that contained my certificate from Starfleet Medical. I shook my head at "Morgan Collins-McCoy" and thought I could never hang it in the office because it would create too many questions. The bridge crew knew the whole story and would find it funny, but the rest of the ship wasn't privy to Jim's red tape acrobatics and it was perhaps better to keep it a secret for his sake. A note at the bottom of the box read: "Congratulations on becoming legit. Now you can officially tell people they are fucking insane! –McCoy."

_Like he didn't enjoy telling people that himself._

The door chimed and called for them to enter; I didn't feel like walking to the door and it would probably take too long anyway. My face radiated joy when Jim casually strolled in with his lopsided smile, blue eyes sparkling. When he got close enough I gave him an enthusiastic hug, causing him to laugh. "Whoah…ok!" He chuckled patting me on the back. His deep voice resonated in his chest. "Glad to see you too. Bones told me he finally let you go. I just wanted to come down and see how you were." When I let him go, he was blushing slightly and I found it funny.

"Jim, you have no idea how relieved I was to see your face when you answered the distress call." I admitted. "It was like the heavens opened and the angels sang. I knew then that we had a real chance of surviving."

He smiled and folded his arms. "Well, it wasn't all me. You held them off long enough for me to get there. So," he said lowering his voice to a serious tone, "how did being a Captain feel?"

I shook my head slowly remembering the experience. "I was scared to death. I don't know how you do that job every day. I wasn't at all ready. I never wanted to be anything other than storm trooper #10 and suddenly I find myself responsible for the lives of people I didn't know. I didn't have a clue what I was doing."

"But you did." He stated flatly. "What I saw on the other end of that link was someone who was completely in control and taking command with absolute authority even though you thought Bones was dead. What I saw was someone who put aside her own feelings in the name of duty and was thinking like a Starfleet officer to save the ship and the crew."

"What can I say?" I scoffed. "I am a convincing actor because that was not what I was feeling. I was terrified."

"I am too." He admitted looking me straight in the eye. "Every time we get into a fracas a part of me is scared that I won't be able to do it, that I will make the wrong decision and people will die. But you have to feel fear, because if you don't it means you don't care about what happens to your crew and I never want to stop caring." His eyes hardened fractionally and I did not doubt for one second the devotion he felt for his crew, of which I was now one. "Collins, that is why I asked you to join Starfleet. I knew you had it in you to be a great officer. I know you don't think so, but I could tell from the way you took your job so seriously that you would have the dedication it took to pull it off. And was I wrong?" He asked raising his eyebrow with a smirk. "I don't think so. How was the Academy, anyway?"

I gave a desperate laugh. "It was without a doubt the absolute hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. I actually thought about just walking away." I confessed a bit ashamed.

Jim gave a knowing smile. "So why didn't you?"

"Because of you and the crew." I replied. "You, McCoy and especially Spock stuck your necks out for me to get me in. I had a feeling a letter of recommendation from Spock did not come easily and should not be taken lightly and leaving would be spitting in all your faces. That kept me there at first, but the more time passed and I saw how important this ship is and how people look up to you and dream of serving onboard, I realized how lucky I really was to have you all as friends. I saw the caliber of professionalism that I wanted to be a part of so I stuck it out even when I was sure I wasn't going to make it."

"I hear your graduation was nice." He slyly smiled. "Most of the crew didn't get one because we were all called up, but McCoy said it was tastefully done." I smiled sarcastically at him, remembering how he sort of lied to me about McCoy's whereabouts to cover for him. "But seriously, Collins, what you did for him was great." His eyes became soft and he smiled faintly. "I don't think there is anything in this universe that he would have wanted more. You were a good friend to go toe toe with the ex."

"She's really not as bad as you would think." I shrugged even though I knew he would never believe it in a million light years. "But as for McCoy and I, I suppose as the Captain you must know." He straightened somewhat and a smile slowly crawled across his face in anticipation. I sighed heavily because he was just enjoying this too much. "We are sort of seeing each other, but it won't interfere with our respective duties."

Jim let out a laugh from deep in his belly and he covered his face in relief. "Jesus! It's about fucking time!" He exclaimed. "You guys were seriously killing us. I thought Chekov was going to break down and cry under all the pressure. What took so damn long? I did everything I could to make that happen. I was thinking about making you two face each other and duct taping you together until something happened!"

"What do you mean you did everything you could?" I asked suspiciously.

His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Hello! Domestic partners? I sent him with you to Chicago, although Chekov kinda threw a wrench into those plans. I didn't have to put you in the same office. Scotty told me there was a good sized empty space behind a panel down the hall that he could have converted, but I didn't. Do you think that dinner with the brass was an accident? I invited them so you would have to hook up with Bones. Scotty, Spock and I all suffered so you two might finally admit that you were attracted to each other. Sharing his quarters was not my doing, but I would have thought of something if I thought it would have helped move things along! Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov were all dropping hints. Hell, even Spock was growing tired of the illogical way the two of you were stubbornly refusing to just let go! _Spock, _Collins! He doesn't get involved with anyone's business but even _he_ could see that you had feelings for Bones, and that dude would rather die than admit to identifying with emotions."

"Spock." I muttered in disbelief. I would have to have a talk with him about this.

"Yeah, it was a thing of absolute fucking beauty to watch him casually drop the fact that you liked Shakespeare into a conversation right in front of Bones, which was perfect because I know he studied that crap at the Academy even though he tried to hide it from me. I am telling you he didn't even bat an eye while he watched him take the bait. I know you told me he was a lot more devious than he lets on, but damn!" He laughed. "He was so smooth it was like it was effortless. The Vulcan has mad skills!"

"Only because he is also human." I groused, although it was nice to see that he was learning to utilize his human abilities when he saw need for them instead of dismissing them out of hand. You always had to be on your toes with Spock.

"Anyway, I am happy and the rest of the crew will be too. It's about time he had someone to look after him…you know…in ways that I just can't. Just don't forget what I told you." He warned with a wry smile.

"Yes, that is always in the back of my mind." I affirmed. Always.

"Good. Now Bones tells me you will probably be ok to return to duty in a week or so. Will you?" he asked with an intense look in his eyes.

"I guess, if that is what he says." I answered. "I'm not the doctor, he is."

"No. I mean…" He tapped the side of his head with his finger and bit his bottom lip.

"You want to know if I am crazy." I said with some amount of distaste. "It is pretty hard to diagnose yourself. After all, do crazy people know they are crazy?" He looked away and seemed to ponder my rhetorical question. "I don't think so."

He looked back to me and sighed. "Bones will have to do your psych eval, but if you say you are fine I will believe you. I just thought that maybe it would have caused some problems for you what with the history you and Saren had and then everything they did to you." His voice was quiet as though he were speaking during a funeral and he seemed very uncomfortable. "It would only seem natural to maybe…you know…need some time or something."

If McCoy was no good at psych stuff then Jim was certainly no better, but despite his hesitant and halting speech, his concern for my well being came through and I smiled. "Saren is gone, thanks to you." I commended. "I am not going to lie and say I will be 100% fine down the road because I don't know. What I do know is that I survived because you came and fought the Romulans, Pavel got me off the ship, and McCoy worked a medical miracle. If I do develop problems, I know I have support just as I did then." I took the opportunity to tell him about Pavel and what exactly he did to get me off the ship, being sure not to spare any detail.

He gave a serious nod and reluctantly asked, "What made you get on that warbird knowing what they would do to you?"

"I didn't know." I admitted. "I didn't know they were going to stab me." I couldn't bring myself to say the word 'torture' although that was what happened. I just couldn't really face that, it was easier to think of it as being beaten up. "But I did it because I thought the crew had the best chance of survival with McCoy, and…" I wasn't really comfortable with what was next, "I…"

"What?" He asked quietly leaning forward to better hear. "You what?"

"You thought McCoy was dead once. I couldn't make you go through that a second time." I rephrased. "It was better me than him." Jim shifted his weight and lowered his eyes. He couldn't deny it, McCoy's death would have been harder for him to take than mine. It was understandable though, and I knew it wasn't because he didn't care about what happened to me. "But hey, we avoided all that, right? You got your win-win."

He gave a dead smile, but deep down he knew that someday it wouldn't end so well. His lucky streak couldn't last forever and sooner or later he would have to lose.


	37. Chapter 37 What Could Have Been

**Chapter 37- What Could Have Been**

It felt wonderful to be in my own bed again. It felt even better to have someone to share it with. McCoy came back an hour or so after Jim left looking tired. He sat on the side of the bed with a mild scowl and set to work scanning and poking at me, and I let him because I figured the best path was that of no resistance. The sooner he could see for himself that I wasn't dying or had done something stupid like fence with Sulu straight away, the sooner he could stop obsessing and finally relax. Of course I knew it was asking the impossible, but one could always hope.

He sighed as he stood up and rubbed his face to ward off the fatigue that was finally catching up to him. "Inflammation is finally going down." He reported with a squint. "But that doesn't mean you can go doing cartwheels down the hall or anything. I want you to stay in bed for at least another day. That dose of pain meds I gave you won't wear off for another two hours. I will be back to give you another."

I didn't want to tell him that the first shot didn't really do anything that I could tell because it seemed to make him feel better to think that he was in total control of everything. I reached my hand out to him and smiled. "Why don't you just stay here? If you go back to your quarters I know you won't sleep and it looks like you desperately need it."

He put his hands on his hips and tried to frown menacingly, but he just couldn't pull it off. "Are those your orders, Doctor?" He ended up smiling.

"Yes." I stated emphatically. "Think of it as keeping a close eye on your patient- with them closed, of course."

He shook his head and replied, "I don't do this for all my patients, you know. As a rule I don't go climbing into bed with Jim every time he gets into a scrape and I sure as hell am not going to hop in with Chekov."

"Then I consider myself lucky." I laughed. "And it really makes you sound like some kind of medical man-whore. Did you ever think about charging for your services?"

"Only if they pay me in bourbon." He chuckled getting pajamas from the replicator. "But I don't think there would be much business for me. No one wants a pissed off doctor in their bed."

"I do." I shrugged.

He smiled broadly and turned to head for the bathroom. "Then you are in serious need of a psych eval. Really, Collins, I never pictured you as a masochist."

The shower came to life and I dimmed the lights and lie there, listening to the splashing sound until I drifted off to sleep. If I laid on my side with my knees drawn up slightly, I didn't really notice the pain. I woke and smiled when I felt him carefully sidle up close to me from behind and the fresh spicy scent swirled on warm currents around me. He placed his hand on my hip and I could feel the tingling sensation of his breath across my neck when he exhaled. I picked up his hand and drew it to my lips where I kissed his palm and fingers. It seemed only right to show love to the very hands that saved me.

He chuckled in my ear and whispered dreamily, "What was that for?"

"I thought you were dead." I answered miserably. "And I am glad you aren't." I didn't know why it came out, but it was like a dark cloud sitting over me. "I can't tell you what that felt like to think that Saren had murdered you right in front of me. To think that you were gone forever…"

He pulled me closer still to him and said, "But I'm not. I'm right here." His voice lowered and he hesitantly admitted, "I thought I was going to lose you too. I didn't think you would survive the blood loss and I knew it was all my fault."

I ran my finger along the back of his hand and asked, "What do you mean? You didn't know what he was going to do."

He shifted uncomfortably and replied, "I did because he told me what he was going to do to you. Goddamn it, I held out as long as I could, but I gave you up when I couldn't stand it anymore. He knew as soon as Jim answered the call that it was all over for him. He knew he was going down, he just wanted to take you with him. He never planned on going anywhere with you, he wanted to kill you in front of the crew as a last act of revenge and because I told him you were now an enlisted officer, you became that much more valuable to his plan. I'm sorry." His voice was full of pain and regret.

I twisted painfully to face him. "It's ok." I reassured him. "Anyone would crack under the pain. I did. I told them things about the ship that I didn't want to. I know you tried to resist and so did I, but in the end all the willpower in the world couldn't possibly be enough." I smiled faintly and ran my hand along the side of his face, feeling the rough stubble scrape my skin. "I don't blame you at all for what happened. Without you, I would have died."

His eyes fell slightly and he said, "You were just lucky." I gave him a wary grin because that was what he said the first time he worked a miracle by defrosting me. "Every time you put yourself in danger, it always felt like a knife in my heart. But this time…" he faltered, "watching you…"

"I know," I whispered squeezing his hand lightly, "that is exactly what I felt watching you. The guilt has been crushing and at the time I felt like screaming. I would have given anything to change it, to stop it from happening, but all I could do was stand there and watch and feel as though my guts were being torn out."

His olive eyes rested on mine and he smirked. "I didn't know you felt that way then. How long have you known?"

"Quite awhile." I laughed somewhat embarrassed. "So all of those visits weren't exactly business."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well I didn't exactly ask you to leave, did I?"

"Which means you knew?" I asked suspiciously.

"When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew- Romeo and Juliet"

"So unfair." I mumbled, "You know what Shakespeare does to me. That reminds me, Jim was here earlier and he said Spock told you that on purpose. Did you know the whole bridge crew was in on trying to get us together?"

He chuckled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I should be pissed, but hell, how long did we dance around each other? It was probably frustrating the hell out of them. I can almost guarantee you that Jim was behind that- for a guy who has a string of failed relationships longer than the tail of Haley's comet, he sure loves to play matchmaker. And if he knows, it means the entire ship knows and Spock will have an even more smug look on his damn face when I see him, if that is somehow possible."

"Yeah, well I will be having a conversation with Mr. Spock about his role in all of this." I groused. "He was supposed to be my friend."

"He is? I didn't think that hobgoblin had it in him to form friendships. I thought he would find it illogical and all that bullshit." He grumbled. "Christ, you nearly have to drag him by a pointed ear to social functions."

"He is definitely not the guy that will have a lampshade on his head by the end of the night," I admitted, "but get him by himself and he is surprisingly engaging."

"I'll just take your word for it." He yawned. "Being alone with that green blooded bastard for any amount of time sounds like the 7th circle of hell to me. All the proper speech like he has a corn cob shoved up his ass drives me up a damn wall. He takes everything so literally it is maddening."

I laughed so hard it hurt. "You know he does that just to get your goat, right? He gets it. He understands metaphors and figures of speech, he just likes pointing out the irony of human speech because it is funny." I let my mind wander for a moment before adding, "He would have so many problems if the roles were reversed and it was he that was thrown back to my time. God, I couldn't imagine how he would survive."

"Really?" McCoy asked perking up. "Why?"

"Where to start?" I mused. "I guess he could find work as a computer programmer for Microsoft if he was locked in a back room somewhere. Nerds probably wouldn't find him so strange aside from his ears. Maybe he could just wear a Yankees baseball hat to cover them. He certainly would be the first to put out a version of Windows that actually worked."

"So who would have the best chance?" He asked thoughtfully. "Who on this ship could go back to your time and go unnoticed?"

I thought about it for a minute before answering, "Going back is always easier than going forward since they would have the advantage of knowing history and advanced technology. If they could 'invent' one of the technologies, they could become a millionaire overnight. I think of everyone, Pavel would have the best chance. He is still young enough to get into an Ivy League school and with his math abilities, he could work just about anywhere and master any of the sciences. My second choice would probably be Scotty based on pure aptitude. He could get by working as a mechanic if not an engineer. Uhura could do well as a translator, but everyone else might have trouble."

"Even me?" He asked incredulously. "I'm a doctor! People will always be sick!"

"Yes, but you couldn't practice. You would have to go through medical school again because medicine is very different and you certainly couldn't be a surgeon. No tools, lasers, or gadgets- it is all done by hand." I reminded him. "Just like you see on M*A*S*H."

"Twice was enough for me." He grumbled. "But tell me Jim wouldn't make it. The man is like a cockroach- he survives everything."

"The problem is, he has no marketable skills and in my economy, you have to have a job to buy what you need. There are no replicators to give you what you want. Looking past the problem of him always getting hurt- because healthcare in my time would probably not be adequate to keep rescuing him- I could see him making a living on the black market as a con man. With his wits he could be a successful pickpocket or he could hook up with the rest of you to take down a casino Ocean's 11 style. Make one big score, invest most of the take wisely, and you could be set."

"What about Sulu? Couldn't he still be a pilot?" He inquired with another yawn.

"If he went into the military again. And let me tell you, the military is not Starfleet- it is _not_ a peacekeeping organization. The sole purpose is to kill people. Even if he could live with that, which I doubt, I would think that for him being a fighter pilot would be the difference between steering the Titanic and playing with a toy boat in the bathtub. It just wouldn't be the same. Even if he flew our fastest jet, the F-15 at the top speed of mach 2.5, it still wouldn't compare to the Enterprise. But what would be the worst for you all is being grounded with no way of ever going into space again."

"I wouldn't mind." He mumbled sleepily.

"Ok, except you. But wouldn't it bother you just a little to just _know_ what was out there, but never see it again or even speak of it? Remember, people in my time think they are the only life in the universe. I know I couldn't. That was why I told Jim that I didn't want to go back even if I could. I wouldn't trade any of it for a second."

"Never?" He asked draping his arms around me. "That's a long time."

"Never." I reiterated. "Not the Romulans, the Klingons, the Academy, none of it."

He smiled faintly, but his eyes drifted shut and he was fast asleep. The muscles in his face relaxed, easing the lines of tension and worry and left behind a smooth mask that made him look much younger. I smiled when his arms twitched slightly as he drifted deeper into sleep and I wondered what he saw when he closed his eyes.


	38. Chapter 38 The Peanut Gallery

**Chapter 38- The Peanut Gallery**

With a few more sessions with the dermal regenerator, I was feeling close to normal. McCoy said I could again eat solid food, which was a relief after subsisting on chicken broth and fortified water for several days. I did many laps around the ship partially out of boredom and as a part of a self-imposed rehab schedule. It was slow going at first, but it was good because it got me out of my quarters and I got to mingle with the ship's crew again.

What I couldn't get used to was people saluting me. They did it not because they had to, they didn't even really do it to Jim or Spock, but they did it as a means of congratulations. I smiled weakly and returned the gesture, but it was uncomfortable to think that they were aware of a power differential that now existed where none had before. However, after speaking with them for as long as they were able to stop in the hallways on their way to or from an assignment, it was a huge relief to me that my fears were unfounded. At the beginning of all of this when Jim asked me to join Starfleet, I was worried that the dynamics of the client relationship would change and people would see me out of a sense of duty rather than a completely voluntary basis. But in my conversations, it seemed as though nothing had changed; if anything, they felt more comfortable now that I was one of them.

Sometimes Pavel would wander the halls with me to fill his time, and I couldn't help but think Sulu was right: when you are on medical there really isn't anyone you would want to hang out with available because they are all on duty. We played cards and he spent hours showing me pictures and telling me the stories behind them, but there is nothing a psychologist loves more than a good story so I didn't mind. While we were walking to dinner to meet the usual suspects we always ate with, he quietly got up the courage to say, "I heard about you and the doctor. I am wery happy for you, I hope it lasts a long time."

"Did Jim tell you about that? I am surprised he didn't have you make an announcement." I grumbled.

"The Captain did tell us only because ve all vorked together. As they say in Russia, a volf von't eat another volf, so I knew that the doctor and you vere good for each other. I do not know the doctor that vell, but I know a happy man vhen I see one." He smiled. "As my friend, it brings me joy to see you happy too."

"Thanks, Pavel." I gave him a light pat on the shoulder and didn't doubt him for a minute. He was perhaps the best kind of friend a person could ask for.

Dinner was almost the highlight of my day, which was pretty sad when you thought about it. But sitting as an equal among friends for the first time was a new experience. Of course they gave the obligatory mock salute with a smile and asked endless questions about the Academy.

"What happened to your roomie?" Uhura asked with a twisted smile. "She seemed so charming."

Scotty rolled his eyes and commented, "Aye, about as charmin' as a rabid dog outta it's bloody skull."

"Come now, Scotty," I laughed, "she idolized you! I am not sure which she fantasized about more- you or Jim."

"Great." Sulu chuckled stabbing his noodles. "Just what the Captain needs, another fangirl." Pavel nodded vigorously in agreement.

"So…" Uhura purred in her low and silky voice with a mischievous smile, "where's your new pal?" I put down my spoon and frowned at her. She turned to Scotty and laughed, "Isn't that cute? She even looks like him." Scotty looked to me with an apologetic shrug.

"I assume he is still in sickbay," I replied in a measured tone, "but it is not like I have a chip implanted in his neck like a dog so I know where he is at all times. By the way, am I the only person here that can keep a secret?"

Uhura looked at me as if to ask if I had lost my mind. Sulu put his hands in the air and said, "Let me just go on the record by saying this was _not_ my idea. Ok, so I may have played a small part here and there, but I was happy just to let things be." Pavel slowly turned to look at him incredulously.

"Hikaru, please!" Uhura protested. "Who was it that went on and on about all the yin-yang shit and opposite forces balancing every time one of them came up to the bridge? It sure as hell wasn't me!"

He looked at me anxiously. "My comments may have been taken out of context here, but I just want you to know that Jim and Uhura were the masterminds of the whole operation. We got our orders from them. Remember when I was there with her and Pavel when he took your picture? That was her idea. I just went along for moral support. And when we all had to share quarters? I didn't mind bunking with her, but it was Jim's idea to rearrange everyone."

"Aye! Glad he did." Scotty mumbled into his soup. "But Ah wasn't really a part of all this show. Ah just stayed in me dungeon an' kept to me self. Ah damn near ran outa scotch when the good doctor was blue an' the Captain was hidin' from him. Ah'm glad to help a man out, but it was gettin' to the point Ah was gonna just give him a red shirt on account of he was down there so much. Ah don't know how good the man is with a wrench, but he can't be all that bad bein' a surgeon and all."

Uhura lifted her chin high and her dark hair swirled around her shoulders. "Well I for one am not in the least bit sorry for giving you two the shove you needed to finally admit to being human. It was so obvious from the start that he was taken with you and you were equally interested in him, but neither of you had the guts to just take a chance. The two of you kill me with your professional code of conduct or whatever you blame it on."

"Da. Time is too short to miss out on a vonderful experience." Pavel agreed. "Vhat good is being a perfect doctor if you are alone and unhappy? I vould vorry less about seeing a doctor that vas in a relationship even if it didn't vork out than one that never had the guts to try."

"Ok!" I conceded putting my hands in the air to stop the onslaught. "I get it. I am sorry we didn't move fast enough for you, but that was just how it worked out. Everything in its own time, right?"

"Even if it is slower than a 7 year itch." Sulu chuckled.

Scotty raised his glass and said, "Here's to the finish line and to hopin' that the next round of physicals aren't so bad 'cause the doctor will be in a better mood!" Everyone agreed with laughter and smiles.

McCoy didn't come to dinner and I wondered what was going on in sickbay to keep him so long. I stopped by, but he wasn't there, so I went to deck 3. As I approached his door, Spock got off the lift and my eyes narrowed. I hadn't seen him since I left for the Academy.

"Doctor." He greeted in his usual neutral tone. "It appears you are recovering from your injuries well."

"Spock." I smiled. "I heard you have been very busy."

"How so?" He asked raising his eyebrow slightly. "I have not taken on any new responsibilities since your departure."

I scanned the hallway to be sure we were the only occupants. Spock just stood there looking down at me inscrutable as always. If he had a clue what this was about, he was not about to admit it. "Jim told me about your part in the conspiracy." I answered with a slight frown. "You were the last person I would have expected."

He blinked once, but his features remained still. "I do not know to what I have been complicit, Doctor."

I gave him a patient smile. He knew very well what I was talking about, but he was pretending again. "You know about McCoy and I. I also know that you worked with the rest of the crew." I spelled out for him even though I didn't have to.

"Ahh." He lilted with a small nod. "Yes, the grand conspiracy to make the two of you engage in a romantic relationship. I assure you, Doctor, the personal affairs of the crew do not interest me unless it has interfered with assigned duties. This has not been the case with you and the doctor."

"So you are telling me Jim lied about your involvement?" I asked surprised.

He stood at attention and corrected, "I am not aware of the information he has provided you, so I cannot comment on the accuracy of his statements. However, the Captain has been observed to have 'stretched the truth' as you might say."

He really was a hard nut to crack when he wanted to be. "He told me that you and Scotty went to the dinner for the brass knowing you didn't have to just so McCoy would have to bring me as his date."

His eyes never wavered. "I was unaware that the function was optional. I assure you that had I known, I would have avoided the nearly 2 hour lecture on the competitive viewing of canines by the Admiral's mate. I knew from my time on Earth that humans share an affinity for canines, but I was unaware that an entire lifestyle revolved around them." There was just a hint of resigned disgust to his voice that made me smile.

"What about the pep talk you gave me after the outbreak on how McCoy was actually a good guy and I should forgive him?" I asked.

"As I stated, it was a personal observation that his behavior was atypical. I also stated that I would remain neutral as to your decision. I did not suggest you forgive his actions, I only stated that you find resolution before you departed." He replied calmly.

His memory was too good. "Fine." I conceded. "Then what about you telling him I liked Shakespeare knowing that he would use it?"

He shifted his weight and lowered his eyes somewhat. Ha! "I did relay that you had expressed interest in his work." He admitted reluctantly. "But it was a response to his inquiry on your health. I told him that you had quoted Hamlet when I woke you." I didn't care how he justified it to himself, I got him to admit that he had indeed knowingly played a small part. "If I have wronged you by providing him with the information, then I apologize. It was not my intention to anger you or appear to have a preference."

"You didn't, Spock." I softly replied. I couldn't hold a grudge against him for the life of me. "It would seem that Jim may have exaggerated your involvement a little."

The corners of his mouth curled ever so slightly. "Then if you and Dr. McCoy have engaged in a romantic relationship, I will suggest to the Captain that I remain your contact to avoid a conflict of interest even though you are now a commissioned officer and should report to him as the CMO."

"That sounds like a good idea." I agreed.

He briskly nodded and his eyes became darker. "Doctor, there is one more thing…" He stated in a wary voice. "Follow me." He instructed.

Confused, I walked with him to his quarters where a wall of heat punched me in the face as soon as the door opened. I wasn't staying with him anymore, he could have his room the way he liked. He slid the top drawer of his desk open and looked at the floor while he held an object out to me. I approached and smiled when I saw the object resting in his palm.

"My ring." I sighed retrieving it. "You held onto it all this time?"

He let his hand slowly drop to his side and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I apologize for my deceit." He said in a low voice. "I know your wishes were to dispose of it along with your other items."

I turned the dull grey metal band in my fingers and observed all of the scratches. "But why did you keep it?" I asked curiously.

He paused as the tips of his ears flushed green. "I am ashamed, but it was for my own selfish and illogical purpose." He paused again and his voice was barely audible. "My mother and father were married on Earth according to custom, but Vulcan tradition did not allow for the wearing of matching jewelry between mates, so my mother did not wear her ring but she kept it because it meant a great deal to her. She would sometimes remove it from her case and slip it onto her finger when my father was away for long periods of time. I did not comply with your wishes because your ring was similar to hers and it reminded me of her. I am sorry I have been so irrational and irresponsible with your property."

"It isn't at all illogical, Spock." I consoled. "It makes perfect sense to me. You are still mourning your mother and because the planet was destroyed, you have nothing to remember her by. From what you have told me, she was a wonderful woman who deserves to be remembered for who she was." I handed the ring back to him. "This ring has more meaning for you than it does me. You can keep it for as long as you like."

He took it and the light flashed off the surface against the light green tone of his skin. His eyes were soft and sad; he was no doubt thinking of his mother as he slowly rotated it in his hands. He certainly missed her, but I hoped that the memories he retained were happy ones and if the simple metal band could remind him of those happier times, I was glad to give it to him.


	39. Chapter 39 Upward Mobility

**Chapter 39- Upward Mobility**

Returning to work was a relief. I never would have thought that the small, cramped office that McCoy and I amicably shared would be heaven like compared to my quarters, but I was growing listless and found myself nearly counting threads in the carpet out of sheer boredom. I had already resumed my fencing lessons with Sulu just to get moving again, although he took pity on me and went so slow it was as though it were my first day again. I couldn't tell for the mask that protected his face, but I doubted he even broke a sweat which left me to wonder exactly what he was getting out of the whole thing. At least I wasn't alone- Pavel was also on the slow boat due to residual tightness in his thigh and side, so Sulu decided to take us both on at once. It wasn't like it was much of a challenge for him, but at least he got something approaching real action if we both tried to poke him with our foils.

If I was at all concerned about dipping the pen in the company ink, I shouldn't have been. McCoy was ever the professional during business hours, never showing favoritism and doling out sarcastic remarks just as often as he always did and I in turn dished it right back. It was an intimate game of battle of the wits that I found endearing since I was madly in love with his mind- I simply loved his sharp tongue and obscure brand of humor that was sarcastic yet keenly intelligent. Our relationship was indeed quite casual just as I had requested; some nights he came to my room, some I went to his, but sometimes we slept in our own beds. It was nothing we talked about or discussed beforehand, it was just understood that it had nothing to do with the other person. Sometimes you just wanted to be alone or simply didn't feel like taking a ride in the lift for four floors. We didn't fawn over each other at dinner, occasionally the flow of conversation dictated that we didn't speak directly to each other at all and that was just fine with us.

One ritual was observed on a nightly basis, however. No matter who was where, when it came time for lights out we met and kissed each other good night. We also stared every morning in the same manner in the office because it seemed to set a pleasant tone for the day ahead, but it meant getting to sickbay a little early because once it hit 0900, we were on the clock. Just as Cinderella's magical life ended at the stroke of midnight, we too turned into regular coworkers the moment the day began and we continued to be plain old pumpkins and mice until the spell was again cast at 1700 and we were free to dance the night away- sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively, and sometimes not at all, but we found the old axiom that absence makes the heart grow fonder so very true. Our relationship was disturbingly a lot like a bulimic eating disorder; we would purposely see how long we could go without indulging in carnal pleasure only to cave and stuff our faces with proverbial chocolate cake. At least there was no sense of crushing guilt or self hatred afterward.

We also had our little courtesies. McCoy stared it, but when I would go to his room he would move over so I could have the warm spot in the bed. When he came to mine, I would greet him by softly kissing the nape of his neck, his shoulder, or his forehead depending on how he fell into the bed. He always seemed to come to my room after a particularly long day in sickbay or after a late night emergency call when he just wanted some basic comfort. While I preferred the sweet and spicy scent of whatever product he used, I grew accustomed to the sterile, antiseptic smell that often permeated his skin and hair as a result of his duties.

Not everything was wine and roses, however. He really was a blanket hog that if left unchecked would not only take everything you had, but left nothing for himself. It only took one instance of me waking in the middle of the night freezing cold only to find all of the blankets in a pile on the floor next to him for me to start playing dirty. I would either take my allotment and lay on them so he couldn't steal them or if he somehow succeeded, I would curl up very close to him and leach off his body heat. While McCoy did enjoy a certain amount of cuddling, he was a little warm natured and found it uncomfortable after awhile. I warned him I had a strategy back on the starbase when I was sick, but then again I was so hot from the fever I didn't notice if he did steal them then and likely wouldn't have cared less if he had.

Almost an entire month had passed since Saren's demise and we continued to roam the vast unknown stretches of the backwaters of the quadrant per our orders. In all that time, we only encountered two small, barren planetoids that from what Chekov had told me was hardly worth cataloging other than the novelty of seeing something other than pitch black on the screen.

There was a brief moment of excitement when the ship shook slightly and the artificial gravity stabilizers went offline during dinner. Everything began to slowly drift upwards including our bodies. Being weightless was an odd sensation, but it didn't take long for people to attempt aerial acrobatics and soon the entire room was a mesh of food and limbs as people found themselves in all sorts of positions and some seemed quite unsure as to how to right themselves again.

"Scotty, what the hell is going on?!" McCoy growled trying to swim his way back to the table.

"Ah dunno!" He responded from an upside down position. "Ah was sittin' here same as ya! Bollocks! How the hell am Ah gonna get down there?" He swore as he used the table in an attempt to launch himself toward the doors. "Ah need thrusters in me boots."

Sulu relaxed in a reclined position with his hands behind his head and watched Chekov gleefully do stationary summersaults with a huge smile on his face. "Just like the good old days, right Morgan?" Sulu asked. His hair splayed in all directions, making it look like a porcupine was sitting on his head.

"I guess." I answered trying to wrench myself around to face him. "I wasn't an astronaut. Imagine spending months like this. How did they get anything done?" I wondered aloud.

I accidently drifted into Uhura who obviously had bigger problems than just being weightless. A brief look of panic crossed her eyes when she began floating onto her side parallel to the floor. Both hands desperately clenched at the hem of her short skirt in an attempt to hold it down and she dare not let go because despite her efforts, if she was anything but perpendicular people were going to get a peek. I placed my hands on her waist and managed to exert enough force to turn her upright again even though it sent me in a clockwise spiral. I really hated Newton's third law of motion. Stupid physics of action having an equal and opposite reaction.

After what seemed like an eternity, the gravity came back on and everything came unceremoniously crashing down in a heap. People, food, and chairs lay in completely random disarray all over 10 forward. "Goddamn it!" McCoy exclaimed jumping to his feet while he brushed food off his uniform and surveyed the room with a squint. "Anyone hurt?" There were confused groans and a few relieved giggles, but aside from looking like a massive food fight worthy of Animal House had taken place, none were worse for the wear which was a minor miracle in and of itself considering Pavel wasn't the only one putting on a Cirque du Soleil act.

It took about an hour for word to spread that the whole affair was the result of a fight that had broken out in engineering over the quality of a weld that was meant to seal a crack that had formed in a machine adjacent to the gravity stabilizers. The fight had become serious and heavy objects were being used as makeshift weapons when the subpar weld gave way and sent a good sized fragment of sheet metal flying into the stabilizers, damaging them. Needless to say, Scotty was mortified and retribution was swift and severe. Both men were demoted to the lowest rank possible to still be considered enlisted in Starfleet, suspended from engineering and reassigned to laundry duty indefinitely and as a final act of vengeance, Scotty demanded both men clean 10 forward until it sparkled without anyone's help. Almost as an afterthought, he informed them that Spock would be the final judge of cleanliness, not him. It took almost a full day, but when the area was finally reopened it was absolutely radiant. It probably hadn't been that clean since the ship left the yards for the first time.

The following day in sickbay moved slower than a snail stuck in molasses. McCoy and I had spent most of the morning debating the merits of various types of pie for lack of something better to do. When I expressed an aversion to most fruit pies, he seemed to take personal offense. "How could you not like apple pie?" He howled incredulously. "That is simply un-American! I can see not liking peach or rhubarb…"

"Rhubarb is technically a vegetable." I cut in. "Just like pumpkin and sweet potato."

He paused to stare at me blankly. "A pumpkin is not a vegetable."

"Is to." I taunted like a spoiled child. "It is a giant squash, which makes it a vegetable."

"Is not!" He retorted. "I tell you what, let's settle this right now. Sulu is into plants, he would know one way or the other." He stabbed the intercom button on his desk and growled, "Medical to Sulu- is a pumpkin a fruit?" There was stunned silence on the other end. "Well?!" He asked leaning closer to the intercom.

Sulu chuckled and cleared his throat. "Kind of." He replied hesitantly. He was obviously struggling to understand why a man who hardly had occasion to page him on the bridge would blindside him with such an utterly random question.

"What the hell kind of answer is that?" McCoy demanded. "Either it is or it isn't, man! It can't be both." McCoy frowned when he could hear Jim laughing hysterically in the background.

"But it kind of is." Sulu persisted trying not to laugh. "Scientifically speaking, anything that has seeds is a fruit. But in culinary terms, fruit is defined as sweet and usually soft flesh of bushes and trees. So it depends on who is asking: a chef or a botanist."

Jim stopped laughing long enough to gasp, "Seriously, Bones! What the hell are you doing down there? Are you that bored? Have you started contemplating your navel yet?"

McCoy sighed and calmly replied, "Omphaloskepsis.As a doctor, Jim, it is no mystery to me what an umbilicus is for."

Jim fell silent momentarily. "…phalo…that sounds like…that was a little lower than I was thinking, Bones. But hell, what you do on your own down there isn't any of my business." McCoy groaned and rubbed his temples. "Hey, Bonsey- I have a question for you." He said eagerly.

"Whatever it is, the answer is no, Jim." He grumbled in a defeated tone.

"That's a relief." He chuckled. "I was going to ask if you stuck your finger in your belly button and pushed a little if you would touch your intestines." I couldn't help but snicker a little. McCoy's exasperated expression screamed 'WTF?!' "Anyway, why don't you come on up, Bones so we could talk about…you know…what I told you about earlier." His voice trailed off as though he just realized that someone was listening in and he really didn't want them to.

"Yeah." McCoy answered getting up. "Just don't go sticking things into your belly button before I get there because the answer is yes."

"Seriously?" Jim asked in wonder. "That's sick."

"Can you really?" I inquired after he had ended the transmission equally bothered by that little factoid.

He shrugged. "Hell if I know, but if you don't lay it out specifically he will take it as some kind of challenge and who knows what the hell I would be extracting from his gut. Sometimes his creativity frightens me."

I busied myself with making coffee while he was gone. It was my third cup of the day and I had to admit that I didn't really want it, but it was something to do. I turned quickly when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Pavel smiled slightly and looked at me expectantly. I took a sip of my coffee and stared back at him waiting for him to speak. We stood like that for perhaps a minute before we both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "You vanted to see me?" He chuckled.

"Not really." I answered confused. "I mean, it is always nice to see you, but I didn't call you down here."

His blue eyes narrowed somewhat and he looked away perplexed. "That is strange." He commented. "Uhura said you called her and asked for me to report to sickbay. It is unlike her to get mixed up. Maybe she meant someone else."

I shook my head slowly. "I didn't call anyone. I usually prefer to personally get someone if I want to talk to them."

"That's vhat I thought." He puzzled.

"Collins and Chekov, report to 10 forward immediately." Jim's voice boomed through the intercom. It was like hearing the voice of an angry god and we both cringed.

"What did we do?" I asked a little concerned. "He sounded like he was really mad." Pavel shrugged wide eyed, but we hurried to our post.

10 forward was completely full of people just as it had been when McCoy organized the funeral for Pavel's brother. Along the opposite wall Jim, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty stood at attention and I swallowed hard. This was uncomfortable. Jim stepped forward with a smile and indicated that we should stand facing the crowd. "This has been a long time coming." He stated resuming his solemn face. I risked a sidelong glance at Pavel and he seemed to be taking it all stoically. "First, as the Captain, let me congratulate you on your commission in Starfleet." He continued stopping in front of me. The crowd saluted as if on cue and I watched them with a strange sense of detachment. "And now let me congratulate you on your promotion to Lieutenant Commander and officially welcome you to your post as ship's counselor." This time, even the commanders saluted and it felt very strange.

He stepped to the side and Spock came forward with an even expression. "Per Starfleet Command, it is my pleasure to present to you the Starfleet Award for Valor for your actions as acting captain aboard the USS Raven. 68 lives were spared under your command." He carefully pinned a triangular medal to my uniform before taking a step back to again salute. "Well done, Lieutenant Commander."

Jim paced slowly until he came to a stop in front of Pavel. "Mr. Chekov." He began. "During our engagement with the Romulans, you volunteered to board the ship of an enemy of the Federation in order to retrieve a crewmate. Based on your actions and the report of Dr. Collins, the ship's commanding officers have decided to award you with a Citation for Conspicuous Gallantry and a service ribbon." He pinned the items on Pavel's shirt as he stood like a statue and turned pink when Jim saluted him with a broad smile.

The room erupted in cheers and I glanced at McCoy and wondered why he didn't get any recognition for his efforts. He was a far better officer than I was and he risked his life by leaving the ship and being captured by the Romulans. Didn't that count for something? If he was able to read any of my concerns, he didn't show it. Instead, he smiled warmly and clapped along with everyone else.

As the room emptied, I accepted hugs and handshakes from Sulu and Uhura. "I am happy for you." She whispered into my ear. "You got a big promotion and the boy. Look at you! You have come so far." I tried not to laugh, but I was touched by her sincerity.

"Ya made it, lass!" Scotty shouted while he pulled me into a bear hug. He was surprisingly strong for a man his size and I was startled. "I knew ya would! That reminds me, ya never finished the joke ya started. The one about the psychologist and the hooker." He grinned.

I had forgotten all about that. Things were a little hectic when we returned from the Amazons and to be honest, I was a little distracted by McCoy's condition at the time. "Right. Well, it won't be as funny now, but what happens when a psychologist and a hooker spend the night together?" He smiled and shrugged in anticipation. "After 1 hour, they say 'That will be $120." His eyes sparkled as he laughed.

Spock was standing close enough to hear, but he frowned slightly. I could guess he was wondering why I would compare my profession with that of a sex worker even though he probably got the joke. I didn't know if Vulcan had hookers, but three years on Earth would have been plenty of time for him to wise up. He gave me a stiff nod and a slight smile that warmed my heart. He didn't have to say it, but I knew he was proud of me.

Jim smiled brightly and shook my hand. "Sorry it took so damn long." He said to Pavel and I. "I had to wait on Starfleet and the relay took so damn long all the way out here. Anyway, great job guys." He simultaneously gave us both a clap on the shoulder. "You guys make me look good out there." As if he needed any help impressing anyone. The man was a walking, talking, breathing, pulsating ball of wonder all on his own.

Pavel and I shook hands and he turned to meet up with Sulu who waited for him patiently by the door leaving only McCoy and I in the vast, empty room. He smiled and swaggered his way to me to place his arm around my shoulder. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Collins-McCoy." He said in a playful voice. "You had a rough start out the gate, but you have done pretty well for yourself already. It looks like you have a bright future in Starfleet."

"The only future I am concerned about is yours." I responded. "McCoy, why didn't you get anything for risking your life? You had just as much to do with them surviving as I did."

He bit his bottom lip and lowered his eyes. "You know I am no glory hound. I told you that." He answered quietly. "Besides, the point is they did pull through. Isn't that really all that matters?" I gave him a wary look. "Anyway, it turns out I was right. I knew you would be a natural." He placed his warm hands on the sides of my face and looked me in the eye with a soft smile. "Can you clock out for a minute so I can kiss a hero?"

My lips slowly twisted into a smile and I stated, "Only if you also clock out so I can kiss mine."


	40. Chapter 40 Many Happy Returns

**Chapter 40- Many Happy Returns**

It took about a week for the sarcastic salutes from crewmembers to wear thin and it lost all novelty. Pavel was the worst offender, taking every opportunity to do it, not because he had to although I did now outrank him, but because he knew I was less than comfortable with having a division of power so starkly drawn. I preferred to remain his friend and equal as I did all others rather than his boss.

Not everything about being an officer could be covered in the 6 weeks I spent at the Academy, and I found the command to be a tight knit 'I'll get your back if you have mine' kind of structure. As such, mistakes were made but they were either corrected or smoothed over by the other officers in order to maintain a sense of integrity. McCoy and I were the clean-up crew for the bridge- often sent to diffuse and mitigate when something went wrong. I brought to the table a more personal touch while McCoy took a hard-line approach; it was like a good cop, bad cop routine but it worked.

Spock often handled our mistakes in sickbay by his mere presence. If the nurses had gotten into a snit over one of McCoy's directives and cornered him in the office with proverbial pitchforks and torches, Spock could calmly walk through the door and cast a hard, uncompromising stare across the room in his rigid stance. Without saying a word the rebellion would be put down and the crowd would slowly disburse and return to their jobs. On some level they knew that for all his yelling and tirades, McCoy was no serious threat other than administrative discipline. Spock, however, was the great mystery who had been rumored to have nearly choked the Captain to death with one hand. For his part, Spock let the fear of the unknown work to his advantage and it allowed him to talk softly and carry a big stick so to speak.

I was thankful for the quiet instruction that often came from Spock as my direct superior on some of the trickier aspects of the job such as maintaining confidentiality when it directly conflicted with orders or even his own experience in keeping business and pleasure separate if it even remotely looked like favoritism to the rank and file. Not that McCoy and I had ever violated our 9-5 rules, but there were still a few people who were reluctant to seek care form either of us because they thought we gossiped like school girls behind the office door when they left. This was more of a problem for me than him because he had the advantage of conspicuous evidence that a person was injured while I had to rely a great deal on rapport and intuition alone. Sometimes people were reluctant to speak to me about him because they thought I would repeat it back like a parrot, but I assured them that I could not even if I wanted to. And sometimes, I really did want to because some of the things they said were hilarious.

The view from the top, as it were, allowed an unexpected level of access into the private worlds of the command structure. If I thought I had known Jim, Scotty, and Spock before- I had only scratched the surface. Being in the club meant an all access pass for the most part into the everyday inner workings of the men and all of the behind the scenes doubt, fear, and triumphs of their decisions. Of course I knew that each man cared about his department, but the level of commitment was astounding; it was as if they felt personally responsible for every aspect of their well being. If a member of the crew was unhappy or seemed a bit off, they secretly fretted like a worried parent.

Spock was less affected by this, although he certainly was aware of changes in his charge's behaviors to a degree that was amazingly detailed, but the granddaddy of the worry warts was without a doubt Jim. He may have looked casual and nonchalant on the surface, but underneath it all he was a company man who just wanted what was best for his crew, and he probably noticed behavioral anomalies more so than Spock. As it turned out, he was usually at the center of the ship's grist mill. He knew every minute detail about everything that went on between most everyone on the ship. No matter how insignificant the interaction may have been, he was in the know. No two people could greet each other in the hall without his being aware of it.

I woke fairly early because McCoy had again robbed the blankets. It was almost time to get up, so I just let him be and got dressed and went to sickbay to have an extra long coffee warm-up. The lights were still dim in the main bay as the replicator dutifully made my usual and I chatted quietly with the night charge nurse. Scotty had been kind enough to make a shortcut button on the replicator just for me since I ordered the same thing every day. When McCoy made it to the office at 0859, we quickly locked lips even though I was still miffed at him. I wasn't really one to hold grudges, though.

"Who doesn't love mint coffee flavored kisses in the morning?" He mused with a smile as he sat at his desk and took a sip of the steaming black coffee I had waiting for him. "You know, I never drank coffee much until I met you."

"No, you were into things that were more likely to put you to sleep." I quipped with a smirk.

He gave a lazy smile. "Just like you. I offer you an olive branch and you eat the olives." He sighed heavily and continued, "I suppose this is about the blankets again. I can't help it that you are a sore loser."

"I'm not a sore loser," I defended, "you are assuming the battle is over. It has only just begun."

We were interrupted by Uhura's smooth voice on the intercom. "Dr. McCoy, I have a relayed live transmission on hold for you from Earth. I believe it is your daughter."

His eyes widened first in excitement, but then narrowed as he became suspicious as to why his daughter would be sending him a relayed message all the way out here rather than a video. "Send it to my office." He requested as he turned on his monitor. I could tell her face appeared on his screen by the way his eyes lit up at the sight of her. "Hey, baby! How's my girl?" He drawled.

There was a long pause before her voice came through. "Hi, Daddy." She giggled. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, darlin'." He sighed. I smiled and got up to leave to give him some privacy. His eyes flickered to me and he said, "Collins, say hello before you go."

I came to a stop behind his chair and bent down slightly to say, "Hello, Jo. How do you like Phoenix?"

Her face had become tan, making her eyes stand out even more and her hair had become lightened by the sun. She smiled politely and replied, "It's warm like Georgia and the kids at school are really nice. Daddy, the girls at school don't believe me that you are my daddy and that Captain Kirk told me happy birthday."

McCoy laughed lightly. "Well, there is no denying that you are my little girl. Those silly girls don't know what they are talking about. I'll tell you what, maybe I can talk Captain Kirk into making a video with me to send to you so you can show them."

Her eyes sparkled at the thought of sweet revenge. Ah, the politics of girlhood. "That would be great, Daddy!" She squealed. Her tan face blushed a slight red as she asked, "Can Chekov be in it too?"

McCoy's brow furrowed as he echoed, "Chekov?" I gave him a light tap on the back and tried not to laugh as he put two and two together. His voice grew deeper and he frowned, "Uh…sure. I guess I could ask him." He was absolutely seething inside, although he tried his best to hide his disgust while she exploded in joy. His little baby had noticed boys.

I gave him another supportive pat on the shoulder and left him to contend with her boisterous exuberance over the opposite sex. His eyes pleaded with me not to leave him, but he had to face it sooner or later. It was all downhill from here. Next would come boy bands, giggle fits, unfathomable fashions, glittery pink things, and irrational obsessions with her hair. There was no doubt about it, McCoy was suddenly and hopelessly lost in the land of gumdrops, sugar and spice.

I took my coffee out to the main bay to see Sulu perched on the side of the bed and squinting as the nurse carefully bandaged his hand. I approached him and asked, "Sulu, what happened?"

He glanced up at me with a sheepish smile and admitted, "Scotty and I got a little carried away last night. He was trying to teach me how to box and I hurt my hand. I didn't think it was a big deal, but when I got up this morning my hand was all swollen and blue."

"That would be because you have a fracture to the metacarpals." The nurse scolded. "You're lucky it wasn't a complete one or I would have to get Dr. McCoy to look at it."

Sulu seemed equally relieved. "Maybe I should have worn the gloves." He muttered.

"You were boxing with bare knuckles?" I gasped. "That isn't boxing, that's roughnecking."

"Scotty wasn't wearing any, either!" He defended with an innocent look.

"I'll have to keep an eye on you guys. Pretty soon you and Scotty will start a fight club in the engine rooms." I shook my head and chuckled.

Sulu laughed and asked, "Do _you_ know Tyler Durdren?" Of course I did, it was a perennial favorite for Jim & Scotty's movie night.

"Collins?" McCoy yelled from the office. I poked my head around the dividing wall to see him standing in the doorway with a mystified look on his face. "Jocelyn wants to talk to you."

I raised my eyebrows and he gave a defeated shrug. He quietly shut the door when I took the seat at his desk. The mental countdown began in my head for the time remaining until he discovered Sulu and began yelling at him for his extracurricular activities.

"Hello, Dr. Collins." She greeted with an uneasy smile. The lag between the audio and video was a little like watching badly dubbed kung-fu movies on Saturday mornings; they didn't match and the video was jerky, making her look like Max Headroom. As if it were just as bad on her end, she apologetically said, "You guys must be drifting out of range or a ship has dropped a link, I can barely see you. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. I like it here in Phoenix. Clay did try to track me down, but he was arrested thanks to the restraining order. I hope you haven't told Leonard anything about what happened. And, you will be happy to know that I got a job as a secretary and I started taking night classes in business at the local college, so I am doing ok."

I smiled even though I wasn't sure if she could see it. "That's great." I encouraged. "Good luck on your courses and remember that it might be hard, but what is the cost of raising a healthy, confident, independent woman?"

She laughed and replied, "She would have been independent no matter what I do. She gets that stubbornness from her father." She paused and lowered her eyes. "Seriously, though. Thanks for helping me get out of Atlanta. I would probably still be there if you hadn't come with him that day."

"You're welcome." I answered somewhat embarrassed. "It's my job. But let's just say I had been around that block myself and I know firsthand that it takes a lot of courage to change directions. You can't always do it alone. The only thing that I ask is that when you are in a position to help someone else at some point in your life that you do it with whatever talent or connection you have at your disposal. This world can be cruel and unfair and we will only get through it if we watch out for one another."

She smiled and nodded her head before the connection was lost. "Dr. McCoy, I am sorry, but the link was too weak to pick up." Uhura apologized. I didn't respond for him.

McCoy came to bed late that night due to an emergency appendectomy on a security person who had somehow managed to hide her discomfort by rationalizing it as menstrual cramps for hours until the pain became unbearable and her roommate took her to sickbay. He collapsed into the bed with a weary sigh, but smiled faintly. "This is what I was looking forward to." He breathed into my ear as he snuggled up close.

"In that case, welcome back." I kissed his forehead as I usually did and wrapped an arm around him under the blankets. He made a strangely erotic sound that was a mix of growling and purring and I smiled.

"Security to Dr. Collins." A man's voice called over the intercom.

"Noooo." McCoy whined pulling me close. "Don't answer it."

"I have to." I gently chided in his ear. "Such is the life of two doctors who are always on call." I quickly kissed his full lips and called a little louder, "Go for Collins."

"Doctor, we have received reports of a person in distress in engineering."

"On my way." I answered pulling on my pants and groping for a shirt in the dark. I finally found one and pulled it over my head. I didn't know if it was mine or McCoy's, but since we were now the same rank and department it didn't really matter; our uniforms were identical.

"Do you want me to go along?" He asked yawning.

"No. You stay here and get some sleep. You know how long these things can go sometimes." I sighed. "I'll call you if I need you."


	41. Chapter 41 Redemption

**Chapter 41- Redemption**

Scotty was not a man easily given to panic, so when I saw the relief in his eyes at the sight of me exiting the elevators, I knew something serious was going down. "Och! Thank the stars ya showed up!" He whispered tensely at his post outside of the main engineering room. "Ah didn't think the lad would last long enough to see ya." I didn't know what the situation was, but it was obviously taking a serious toll on Scotty. Like me, he had been awakened and notified about a problem in his department, but his disheveled look and red eyes couldn't be totally attributed to his being roused out of a deep sleep.

"What is going on?" I asked quietly just in case anyone else was listening.

"It's Carmello." He sighed rubbing his pale face. "Ah only got part of it, the lad wouldn't talk to me, but Ah think his lass broke it off. He's up on a catwalk wantin' to throw himself off."

"How long has he been up there?" I inquired folding my arms and formulating a plan.

"Ah just got here, but from what Ah hear, at least 20 minutes." He answered. "The whole damn department has been watchin' him from the floor and tryin' to talk him down."

I nodded my head decisively and settled on my approach. "I will need your help, Scotty." In high stress situations where people feel helpless and anxious, giving them a task often helps by providing a focus and Scotty looked like he needed one. It just so happened that he had the skills and authority to make it happen.

"Aye! What do ya want me to do?" He asked standing straighter and regaining his sense of control.

"First I will need you to get all of your people away from the catwalk. Send them somewhere that he can't see them, but try to do it quietly while I have him distracted. After you get that done, I want you to call McCoy and tell him to bring a hypo of whatever he thinks will calm Carmello. Tell him to get as close as he can, but stay hidden. The last thing I need is for Carmello to spot him and panic like a wild animal."

"Aye!" He nodded. "Ah can send all me people to 10 forward."

"That would be a good place." I commented. "McCoy is in my room." His mouth twitched into a brief smile, but I knew that he wouldn't say anything because the situation was too serious. That didn't mean I wasn't going to hear about it later, though. "Ready?" I asked placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Aye. Ready as ever." He replied taking a deep breath to steady himself.

We entered the main engineering room to see a crowd of red shirts all looking up at the young, dark haired man perched precariously on the wrong side of the railing approximately 30 feet off the ground. From that distance, it was possible to die if he was determined enough to land properly, but it was equally likely that he would just be seriously injured and McCoy would find himself in the operating room for the second time that night. I spotted a vertical stairwell that led from the floor to the catwalk, but I didn't want to go that way if I didn't have to. "Scotty!" I hissed. "Is there another way up there?"

He quickly took stock of my dilemma and responded, "Aye. There is a small service shaft that runs into the access hall to his left. C'mon, Ah will show ya." He tugged on my shirt and I followed him. Squeezing into the tight space and crawling up and over obstacles felt a lot like being a rat in a maze. If I didn't have Scotty guiding me, I would have been lost for sure. As I slowly crawled behind him in the hot, dark, stuffy shaft I wondered how he could remember all of the twists and turns and I tried not to yelp when the toe of his boot came crashing down on my finger. "Sorry." He whispered over his shoulder. "Ah am going to go up a wee bit more. The exit is there." I could barely see him gesturing to a vented grate on our right. "Give it a little shove and it will swing right open."

"Alright." I answered moving toward the bars of light. "I will give you a few minutes to get back down. Good luck."

"And to ya, lass." He breathed in the darkness before changing directions and going back the way he came.

I crouched motionless in the dark shaft like some monster spying. I couldn't help but wonder at the ridiculousness of the whole notion of officers climbing through the dank bowels of the ship as though it were just part of the job. McCoy would likely have to come the same way and I could just imagine him swearing with every breath as he crawled along. This was another item that didn't get covered at the Academy unless this is what they meant by 'whatever it takes.'

I stayed in the darkness until I couldn't take it anymore. Scotty should have been down by the time I decided to push on the grate. It took more than just a little shove, but at least it didn't go clattering to the floor as I imagined it would. I climbed out of the black hole and into the clean, white light of the hallway and quickly smoothed my hair and uniform to look somewhat presentable before taking a deep breath and stepping into his line of sight.

His large brown eyes were wide with panic when he spotted me. "Don't come near me!" He pleaded. "I'll jump, I swear!"

I kept my face neutral and put my hands in the air to indicate that I wasn't there to harm him. "Ok, you're the boss." I stated casually leaning on the railing and looking at the crowd below. I took in their worried faces passively as I tried to remember everything I could about Carmello. From what I could recall, he was the second child of a middle class Italian family in New Jersey. He seemed like a down to Earth kind of kid, so I knew the soft approach wouldn't work with him.

"If you came up here to talk me out of it, it won't work." He informed me as his eyes began to swell with tears. "I already made up my mind and you ain't gonna stop me."

I glanced at him and pretended to be completely uninterested. It was a huge gamble, but I thought it would work for him. "Who said I wanted to?" I asked almost yawning. "Look, if you want to off yourself that is up to you." He blinked in disbelief and I knew that although he may have felt like jumping, he was too ambivalent to go through with it. He had been up there too long. People who were truly committed would have climbed up, took one last look and dived off head first without a word. The whole affair would have been over in less than 30 seconds, but he had been up there for almost 30 minutes. If he was trying to make a statement, he had an audience, but yet he didn't jump which told me he was waiting on something. He needed a little push which I wasn't about to give him.

"You don't care that I am going to kill myself?" He asked in wonder. He had caught me inching closer and barked, "Stop right there! Don't come any closer. You will try to grab me." I had to hand it to him, he was a smart kid.

"Please." I mumbled watching Scotty quietly direct people out of the area below. "Look at me. Do you think I would have the physical strength to catch you and haul you back over the railing? I'll tell you what would most likely happen: I would go over with you and while you might think today is a good day to die, you aren't taking me with you."

He seemed mystified by my apparent lack of concern. "Then why are you here?"

I gave him a sidelong glance and answered, "If your life has absolutely gone to shit and you think the best way out is to commit suicide, then who am I to say you can't? It's your life, right? Suicide has long been an honorable exit strategy for many cultures and I think there are times when death is the best option. I just want to make sure you have thought this through before you go through with it."

His eyes narrowed somewhat as he leaned backwards against the railing. "You think killing yourself is a good answer? What kind of counselor are you? Aren't you supposed to tell me that I have a lot to live for and all that?"

"A very pragmatic one." I answered dryly. "And as for telling you that you have a lot to live for, I don't know that. Do you?"

He seemed to ponder it for a moment as he looked out over the empty floor. If he noticed everyone was gone, he didn't appear to care. "I did." He almost whispered. "I was engaged to this nice Catholic girl I met before I went to the Academy. She stuck with me the whole time and promised that she would wait for me when I was shipped out. I told her it might be years before I got back, but she swore that she loved me and said it didn't matter. But today I got a message from her that she was lonely and couldn't put her life on hold while I was out here. She sent the ring back to my folk's house in Jersey and said she was in love with another guy."

I glanced over my shoulder when I noticed a shadow and saw McCoy peeking around the corner with a hypo dangling in his hand. I shot him a look that demanded he step back and he did as soon as Carmello turned his head in my direction. "So you are going to throw yourself off the catwalk because she couldn't wait?" I asked trying to pretend I was keeping up. "I know you must be disappointed, but can you blame her? It seems that even you knew that it was too much to ask."

"Yeah, I knew." He admitted. "But she was perfect and without her I can't face being out here in the nothingness."

"Carmello, no one is perfect." I corrected. "Even if she was straight out of fairy tale, she had to have been flawed in some way. That doesn't make her a bad person, it makes her real. I know that this extended mission is hard, especially being out here in the unknown parts where everything familiar is gone, but trust me. People can find themselves in the most isolated and frightening circumstances and still come out on the other side intact." I knew this because it had personally happened to me.

"I know." He began to cry. "I am just so ashamed. I bet everything on her and now I am alone. Now the whole department thinks I am crazy. How am I going to face them again?" He really seemed distraught and I could see why. No one wanted to be seen as the weak link on the ship.

"They will understand that you were pushed to your limits." I stated flatly. "You are a human with feelings, not one of those machines down there." I gestured haphazardly at the floor below. "I can tell you that Lieutenant Commander Scott will not think less of you for taking the loss of your fiancé hard. I would worry more if you didn't. Your crewmates were trying to help you, they were concerned for your safety- doesn't that tell you a little bit about how they will react to you?"

"I guess." He sighed wiping his eyes. "I just feel so foolish for overreacting."

"Well, we all make mistakes. Welcome to the human race. Now that you see your life isn't worth ending over a girl, why don't you come on this side and we can get you settled."

He began to swing his leg over the rail and then hesitated with a panicked look. "You mean in sickbay? I don't want to be held in the isolation room up there." He had a point; the isolation room was used to quarantine patients from the general population. It consisted of a single bed walled off by thick Plexiglas from floor to ceiling with a double sealed door that hissed when you opened it. It reminded me of a brightly lit version of the cell Hannibal Lector was held in during "Silence of the Lambs."

"Ok, I will make you a deal." I said cautiously. "Come over the rail and I won't take you to sickbay if you agree to let Dr. McCoy give you something to make you feel better _and_ you swear upon your mother's honor that you will call me the minute you begin feeling as though offing yourself is a good idea."

His feet landed with a ringing thud on the metal grate floor when he vaulted the railing. "I thought you didn't care if I did." He challenged.

"I said I was pragmatic." I smiled. "And had the circumstances been more dire I may not have judged your decision negatively, but I never said I wouldn't care."

"Does Dr. McCoy have to know about this?" He asked apprehensively. "Or the Captain? I don't want this to ruin my career."

"I understand your concern." I nodded. "But Dr. McCoy has to know so he can manage the medications, I can't do that. And as for the Captain, he will find out because I am going to take you off duty for a day or two, but I know both men very well and I can assure you that this will not reflect poorly on your chances for promotion."

As soon as the last word fell from my lips, I knew I had lost him. He bolted for the railing and I was right behind, struggling to keep him from going over. He got in a good shot to my face with his elbow, but I held him tight in a chokehold and wrestled him to the floor while calling for McCoy. The floor vibrated with his heavy footfalls as he rounded the corner in a sprint. I flipped Carmello over so he was laying on me and facing McCoy when he arrived. The two men fought briefly as Carmello attempted to push McCoy away and kicked at him violently, but McCoy persisted and with sheer force wrenched Carmello's head enough to the side to inject him with the hypo. I held tight until I felt him go limp and McCoy and I looked at each other panting in exhaustion from the adrenaline and the struggle.

"McCoy to Medical. I'm going to need a stretcher in engineering." He directed wiping sweat from his brow. His eyes settled on me and he asked, "You ok?"

I was knowing that I had not lost another patient. I was so close to another Meyers that I could almost see him falling over the railing and me going over with him. But instead he was safe and although my lip pulsed with pain, that was all that mattered to me.


	42. Chapter 42 Giving Thanks

**A/N: Ok my little legion, we have reached the end. It is with sadness that I bid Adieu to my fictional family. I must now concentrate on becoming Dr. Neuronerd by the end of the year and teaching a class starting next week to create more little neuronerds. Many thanks to you all who have stuck around this epic installment and even more so to those who have been hanging around since Collins was first unthawed and nameless. Thanks to all who reviewed and added me to your favorites, it was a very encouraging experience. I will miss you! Cheers!**

**p.s.- There will be no new installments of this story. Don't ask ;) IF I write anymore Trek, it will be a crossover w/Heroes, but we will see…**

**Chapter 42- Giving Thanks**

A few months had passed in relative quiet in the backwaters of the quadrant save for the occasional expedition to an uncharted planet that we had stumbled across and the near panic that ensued when the starboard nacelle developed a leak of some sort when it was struck by a chunk of rock in an asteroid field. Thankfully the other was still functional and it allowed us to limp back into the known sectors of Federation space. We docked at a starbase for repairs, but it wasn't a terribly nice one, so most of the crew stayed onboard although they were free to leave at any time.

"Hey you two." Jim smiled poking his head into the office where I slowly turned my jar of sand, watching the yellowish grains tumble while McCoy rearranged and cleaned his desk yet again. "You look bored."

"How observant." McCoy quipped sarcastically. "What gave it away, the toothpicks holding our eyes open?"

"You guys know that we are kind of on leave, right? You don't have to sit down here like you are on duty. You guys could, I don't know, go do something together." He suggested with a wink.

"Such as?" McCoy prompted dryly as he emptied the contents of a drawer. "I've already been down there, Jim. The place is crawling with centipedes so big you could throw a saddle on one and ride it through the base. Do you know what kind of parasites those things carry? And did you know that they are venomous? If you get bit by one, your flesh would turn black and burn like it was on fire before it rotted and fell off. If you are lucky, it would get to your heart and eat you from the inside out first, but if not you are in for a long night of hell because the ship doesn't carry antivenom and it would take me days to make any."

The whole time McCoy was lecturing him, Jim leaned casually against the doorframe and rolled his eyes. "Well, if you won't pry yourself out of sickbay, I have an assignment for you." He said deviously. McCoy looked at him warily. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"The day after today." He answered in a flat tone.

"Yeah, but it is a special day." Jim persisted ignoring his friend's passive aggressive protest. "It's Thanksgiving, Bones. You know what that means."

"Shit, Jim. Do we have to go through all that again?" He whined pouring a glass of bourbon for himself and one for Jim.

"C'mon, Bones. You know the crew likes it." He threw back his shot and gestured for another. "Remember keeping up morale and all that. Everyone will get to phone home to their families, but there is nothing like sharing a big dinner together. This year I thought everyone could bring something from their own area. So whatcha' bringing?"

McCoy downed his drink slowly and growled, "What do you mean area?"

"You know," Jim shrugged, "you are from Georgia so bring something unique to southern food."

"You hate southern food." McCoy mumbled giving him an evil eye. "You bitched the whole time when I took you to Backwater Bayou at the Academy."

"Well, yeah!" Jim laughed as though it should have been obvious. "We don't do collard greens and fried green tomatoes in Iowa. I am pretty much a steak, potatoes, and corn kind of guy. I can't believe you talked me into eating grits. It was disgusting; it tasted like paste."

"First of all, you were drunk." McCoy protested waving his finger accusingly, "You had way too many Sazeracs and second, you ate it without putting brown sugar in it like I told you."

Jim gave his crooked smile and replied, "Those Sazzy things were the only good part, and you can never have too many. Anyway- what can I put you down for?" His blue eyes sparkled as he drew a PADD from behind his back and poised his finger over the screen in anticipation.

"Put me down for?" McCoy asked mystified. "You mean actual food? I'm a doctor, Jim, not a sous chef."

"I'll let you think about it and I'll come back to you." He smiled. There was no denying him when he had a plan. "What about you, Collins? What do people in Chicago eat on Thanksgiving?"

"The same as anyone else." I laughed. "I guess I could make rye bread. Chicago has a huge Polish population and they make incredible bread."

He looked at his PADD and frowned. "Looks like Chekov is doing that. He said Russian rye is better than Polish any day."

"He will probably put vodka in it!" I howled. "Fine. I will make paczki then. Nobody does that better than the Polish, not even the Russians!"

"Ok…" Jim squinted. "I have no idea what that is or how to spell it but I am sure no one else will think of that. Bones! What did you come up with?"

"Hell, I don't know Jim." He grumbled scrubbing at his monitor. "I'm not good at these things."

"How about something easy like sweet potato pie? Or peach pie?" I teased. "I am sure you aren't completely clueless in the kitchen. I am sure you can successfully mix flour, water, egg, and sugar. If not, I can help you."

"….peach and sweet potato pie…" Jim echoed as he typed away on his PADD. "You guys can get your ingredients from the base. This is going to be the best Thanksgiving ever!" He beamed as he quickly turned to leave in search of his next victim.

The provisions depot was a little frightening due to the sheer size and selection of items that I had never before seen. If all of the Earth's open air markets were combined under one roof, it would look like the provisions store. It was a daunting task to locate all of the items required to make our deserts, and I had to advise McCoy on appropriate substitutions when we simply couldn't locate a can of evaporated milk in a store the size of Area 51. I was glad that I didn't get to make the bread, as large as the complex was, they didn't seem to carry prepackaged mixes. Poor Pavel would have to make his bread from scratch and that would add considerable time to his commitment. We stored our items in the ship's kitchen in 10 forward and called it a night.

Bright and early the next morning, McCoy and I went to the kitchen to get a jump on our respective projects only to find the area already packed with people. "Good morning," one of McCoy's nurses greeted while she whizzed by with an arm full of green vegetable matter, "The officer's dinner has been moved to the kitchen on 2." McCoy and I gathered our items and headed to our new locations dreading it because the kitchen on 2 was much smaller.

When we arrived, we were greeted by Jim's enthusiastic face as he stood over a huge turkey. He rubbed olive oil and herbs all over the bare flesh and gave it a slap on the rear for good measure. McCoy shook his head in disgust and kept walking until we found an open counter at the far end next to Pavel. "Good morning." He greeted kneading his dough flecked with seeds. He looked tired already and it was hard telling how long he had been at it.

Spock walked behind us and stopped at a sink to wash a bunch of carrots. "Et tu, Spock?" I asked surprised. "I didn't think gluttony was something to be celebrated for a Vulcan."

He concentrated on scrubbing his produce meticulously. I didn't think it was possible for a carrot to shine, but he came close. "I have unfortunately been required to participate in this holiday celebration." McCoy sniggered at the apron he was wearing. It should have said 'kiss the cook.' Of course Spock noticed, but he didn't dignify the slight with any sort of recognition. He instead took the high ground. "Vulcans do not have any such celebrations, therefore I had nothing to contribute in the way of providing a dish. I have instead opted to assist in the preparation stages. Do you require assistance with cutting or preparation of vegetable matter? I will prepare animal flesh if I must, but I strongly prefer to avoid it."

McCoy's eyes were glazed over and I knew he was lost in all of Spock's verbiage. I also knew that Spock did it on purpose to get back at him for laughing at his apron. "That would be a great help." I answered for him. "You can cut up peaches and sweet potatoes when you have time."

Spock nodded stiffly at me. "I will begin at the moment I finish slicing the carrots for Mr. Scott. He is preparing a mixture he called 'stuffing' that is to be packed inside the carcass of Jim's dead prey." I looked at Jim and Scotty talking over the bird and imagined them chasing the thing around a yard at the depot trying to catch it.

When Spock was finished prepping our supplies, McCoy and I began to assemble our contributions. Just as I had suspected, he didn't need my help. But it stood to reason that if he was intelligent enough to repair a structure as delicate and complicated as my brain that he could easily follow a short list of instructions to make his pies even if he wasn't entirely sure what all of the culinary terms meant.

Sulu and Uhura came in late because apparently their dishes required little time to prepare, earning them a weary glare from Pavel. Sulu made mashed potatoes, but added bok choy to liven it up and put an Asian spin on the old standby. Uhura made candied yams, but the bulk of her work consisted of watching her pot boil and nagging Jim about the proper method of basting a turkey.

Pavel helped me fill my Polish doughnuts with either pumpkin or vanilla custard while he waited for his dough to rise. I caught him on more than one occasion sampling his work. His defense was that he had somehow messed up and he couldn't very well serve his mistakes to others and he didn't want to see them go to waste, so he had no other choice but to eat them. He made a suspiciously alarming number of mistakes that seemed to be skewed toward the vanilla variety.

When all of the cooking was done, we carried our dishes into a large open area where a round table had been set with fine dishes and stemware full of wine. We all took a seat and passed around our creations until our plates were full. "So as we are all about tradition today," Uhura spoke up, "in my family it is a tradition to go around the table and say what you are thankful for."

"That's a cool idea." Sulu commented taking a sip from his glass. "I guess it would only make sense for the holiday."

Uhura smiled and looked at Jim. "Captain, you should go first."

Jim laughed nervously and smiled. "Uh…ok." He clasped his hands in front of his face while he thought about it. "Alright, here goes. I am thankful that after everything that we have seen and been through over the past two and a half years that we are all sitting here today to enjoy this meal."

From there, things just naturally flowed in a clockwise progression from Jim's right. "Aye. Ah'm thankful that we haven't blown the old lady apart with all the reengineerin' and 'Scotty, we need more power' and such.' Scotty laughed. "We've had some close ones, but we always pull through."

Uhura smiled and said, "I am thankful that I love my job and the people I work with. It makes it seem less like work."

"Hey!" Sulu protested. "You took my answer! I guess I am thankful for the opportunity to explore space the way I always wanted to. It can be dangerous out here, but the risk is well worth the reward."

"I am thankful that I finally have friends." Chekov smiled. "I know you all tease me, but I also know that it means you care. I vill not forget the support I got vhen my brother died. I know who my friends are."

Spock lowered his eyes, obviously struggling with the custom. "Like Mr. Chekov and Mr. Sulu, I am grateful for the opportunity to serve with individuals who can accept my Vulcan heritage as well as the differences that are noted in others. Without this tendency, it would be most difficult to execute our mission." It was a big step for him, but he handled it eloquently.

"I guess I am thankful for the way my life has turned out." McCoy grumbled. "It looked pretty bleak at the start of all this, and even though we face an unknown number of enemies and the future is uncertain, it is a hell of a lot better than I thought it would be and I wouldn't trade it for the world."

All eyes fell on me as I was the last one. I smiled and began, "It has been a very long and strange year for me." Small chuckles broke out around the table. "To think that on this date I was 250 years in the past is kind of mind blowing. But from the moment I woke up until this one, I have come to be thankful for each and every one of you for different reasons. All of you have made a positive impact on me and have helped support and shape who I am now. Without you, I simply couldn't have survived the early days, but you made me feel welcome by inviting me into your lives. You have laughed and cried with me, shown patience and grace, encouraged me to explore who I could be, but most of all just accepted me for who I am; a 21rst century relic. I have come to consider you all my close family and I am thankful for the ways in which you all have enhanced and enriched my life. I can only hope that I can do the same in return."

Everyone raised their glasses and Jim stood to toast. "To newfound friends and family. No matter what awaits us out there in the final frontier, we know we can rely on each other to get through because blood is thicker than water."

The tinkling sound of crashing glasses filled the air and the abundance of food was surrounded by the faces of our brothers and sisters. No matter how different we may have appeared on the outside, we were held together by a sense of loyalty and mutual respect. I thought back to my first days on the ship when I was so despondent and Spock told me about losing his planet. His words never rang more true than they did in that moment, "I have also come to realize since that time that a sense of community or belonging comes not from being with your own kind, but from a shared history with those around you." He and I had both been orphaned, but we had managed by the outrageous slings of fortune to find a new home with a new family.

I glanced at McCoy who smiled back at me with a glowing warmth in his eyes that made me smile. I agreed with him, I wouldn't trade it for all the stars yet to be explored.


End file.
